The works of Francis Bacon, baron of Verulam, viscount St. Alban, and lord high chancellor of England

n

University of California • Berkeley

Gift of
JOHN A. & CHARLES

STEVENSON

THE

WORKS

OF

FRANCIS BACON,

BARON OF VERULAM,

VISCOUNT ST. ALBAN,

AND

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF ENGLAND.

IN TEN VOLUMES.

VOLUME II.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR J.JOHNSON; W. J. AND J. RICHARDSON; OTR1DGE AND SON;
H. L. GARDNER J F. AND C. RIVINGTON J T. PAYNE ; R. FAULDER ; G. AND J.

BOBINSON ; J. WALKER; J. MATTHEWS; J. SCATCHERD; VERNOR AND HOOD ;

J. NUNN ; CLARKE AND SONS ; CUTHELL AND MARTIN ; LACKINGTON, ALLEN,
AND CO. ; R. LEA J E. JEFFERY J W. MILLER ; LONGMAN AND REES J CADELL
AND DAVIESJ B. CROSBY; J.HARDING; AND J. MAWMAN J

By H. Bryer, Bridge-street, Blackfrictrs.

1803.

CONTENTS

OF THE

SECOND VOLUME,

CENTURY IX.

rception in bodies insensible, tending to natural*
divination and subtile trials ; Page i

Of the causes of appetite in the stomachy 9

Of sweetness of odour from the rainbow y ibid.

Of sweet smells ', 10*

Of the corporeal substance of smells, ibid .

Of fetid and fragrant odours, 1 1

Of the causes of putrefaction, 13

Of bodies imperfectly mixt, ibid.

Of concoction and crudity, 1 4

Of alterations, which may be called majors, 1 5

Of bodies liquefiable, and not liquefiable, 16

Of bodies fragile and tough, ibid.

Of the two kinds of pneumaticals in bodies, 17

Of concretion and dissolution of bodies, ibid.

Of bodies hard and soft, 1 8

Of ductile and tensile, ibid.

Of several passions of matter, and characters of bodies,

19

Of induration by sympathy ', 2O

Of honey and sugar , ibid.

Ofthetfiner sort of base metals, 2 1

Of certain cements and quarries, ibid .

Of the altering of colours in hairs and feathers, 22

Of the difference of living creatures, male and female,

ibid.

Of the comparative magnitude of living creatures, 23
Of producing fruit without core or stone, 24

Of th e melioration of tobacco, ibid.

Of several heats working (he same effects, 25

Of swelling and dilation in boiling, ibid.

Of the dulcoration of fruits, 26

A 2

IV CONTENTS.

Of flesh edible and not edible, 26

Of the salamander, 27

Of the contrary operations of time on fruits and liquors,

28

Of blows and bruises y ibid.

Of the orrice root, 29

Of the compression of llq uors, ibid.

Of the working of water upon air contiguous^ ibid .

Of the nature of air, 30

Of the eyes and sight, ibid .

Of the colour of the sea, or other water, 32

Of shell- fish, 33

Of the right side, and the left, ibid.

Of frictions, ibid.

Of globes appearing Jlat at distance, 34

Of shadows, ibid.

Of the rolling and breaking of the seas, ibid.

Of the dulcoration of saltwater, 35

Of the return ofsaltness in pits by the sea-shore, ibid.
Of attraction by sim ilitude of substance > ibid.

Of attraction, 36

Of heat under earth, ibid.

Of flying in the air, ibid.

Of the scarlet dye, 3 7

Of male fie i at ing, ibid.

Of the rise of liquors, or powders, by means of jlame,

ibid.

Of the influences of the moon, 38

Of vinegar, 40

Of creatures that sleep all winter, 41

Of the generating of creatures by copulation, and by pu-
trefaction, ibid.

CENTURY X.

Of the transmission and influx of immateriate virtues,
and the force of imagination, 43

Of the emission of spirits in vapour, or exalation odour-
like, 49

Of emission of spiritual species zvhich affect the senses,

55

Of emissions of immateriate virtues, from the minds and

CONTENTS.

the spirits of men, by affections, imagination, or other
impressions, 56

Of the secret virtue of sympathy and antipathy,
Of secret virtues and proprieties, 77

Of the general sympathy of men s spirits,

New Atlantis, 81

Mr. Bacon in praise of knowledge, 123

Valerius Terminus of the interpretation of nature : a

few fragments of the first book, 1 27

F i him Labyrinth i, sine Formula inquisitionis, 167

Sequela char tarum, sive inquisitio legitima de Calore et

Frigore, 177

PHYSIOLOGICAL REMAINS.

Inquisitions touching the compounding of metals, 187
Questions touching minerals, with Dr. MevereTs solu-
tions, 194
Of the compounding, incorporating, or union of metals
or minerals, ibid.
Compound metals now in use, 1 98
Of the separation of metals and m inerals, 199
Of the variation of metals into several shapes, bodies, or
natures, 201
Of the restitution of metah and minerals, 206
Inquisition concerning the versions, transmutations, mul-
tiplications, and affections of bodies, 2O7
A speech concerning the recovering of drowned mineral
icorks, 208
Experiments about weight in air and water, 2 10
Certain sudden thoughts of the lord Bacon, set down by
him under the title of Experiments for Profit, 2 1 2
Experiments about the commixture of liquors only, not
solids, without heat or agitation, but only by simple
composition and settling, 213
A catalogue of bodies, attractive and not attractive, to-
gether with experimental observations about attrac-
tion, 215

MEDICAL REMAINS.

Grains of youth, 2 1 7

Preserving ointments, ibid.

A purge familiar for opening the liver, ibid.

VI "CONTENTS.

JJ 'hie for the spirits, 2 1 7

The preparing of saffron, 2 1 8

Wine against adverse melancholy, preserving the senses
and the reason, ibid,

Breakfast preservative against the gout and rheums, ibid.
77/6" preparation of gar lick, ibid.

The artificial preparation of damask roses for smell, ibid.
A restorative drink, ibid.

Against the waste of body by heat, 2 1 9

Methusalem water : Against all asperity and tor refac-
tion of inzvard parts, and all adustion of the blood,
and generally against the dryness of age, ibid.

A catalogue of astringents, openers, and cordials, 22O
An extract by the lord Bacon, for his own use, out of
the book of prolongation of life, together with some new
advices in order to health, 223

MEDICAL RECEIPTS.

His lordship's usual receipt for the gout, 22 5

His lordship's broth and fomentation for the stone, ibid.

A manus Christifor the stomach, 227

A secret for the stomach, ibid.

WORKS MORAL.
A FRAGMENT of the colours of good and evil, 23!

ESSAYS OR COUNSELS CIVIL AND MORAL.

1 Of truth, 253

2 Of death, 255

3 Of unity in religion, 257

4 Of revenge, 26 i

5 Of adversity, 262

6 Of simulation and dissimulation, 263

7 Of parents and children, 266

8 Of marriage and single life, 267

9 Of envy, 269

10 Of love, 273

11 Of great place, 275

12 Of boldness, 278

1 3 Of goodness, and goodness of nature, 2 SO

14 Of nobility, 282

CONTENTS, VJl

15 Of seditions and troubles, 283

16 Of atheism, 290

17 Of superstition, 292

18 Of travel, 294

19 Of empire, 296

20 Of counsel, 300

21 Of delays, 304

22 Of turning, 305

23 Of wisdom for a man's self, 309

24 Of innovations, 310

25 Of dispatch, 311

26 Of seeming wise, 313

27 Of friendship, 314

28 Of expence, 321

29 O/ £/# /n/<? greatness of kingdoms and estates, 322

30 Q/ regimen cf health, 33O

31 Of suspicion, 332

32 Of discourse, 333

33 Of plantations i 335

34 Q/ r/cto, 338

35 Of prophesies, 341

36 Qf ambition, 343

37 Q/" masques and triumphs, 345

38 O/* nature in men, 347

39 Of custom and education, 348

40 Of fortune, 350

41 Q/* wfwry, 35)

42 Of youth and age, 355

43 Q/* feflwty, 357

44 O/ deformity, 358

45 G/1 building, 359

46 Of gardens, 363

47 O/" negociatijig, 369

48 Of followers and friends, 370

49 Of suitors, 372

50 Of studies, 373

51 Of faction, 375

52 Q/' ceremonies and respects, 376

53 Of praise, 378

54 Qf vain-glory, 379

55 Of honour and reputation, 381

56 Of judicature, 382

Vlll CONTENTS*

57 Of anger, 386

58 Of vicissitude of things, 388
Of a king, 393
A fragment of an essay on fame, 395

A COLLECTION of APOPHTHEGMS, ll€W and old, 401

Ornamenta rationalia, 464

Short notes for civil conversation, 472

An essay on death, 473

THEOLOGICAL WORKS.

A confession of faith, 481

A prayer or psalm, 489

A prayer, 490

The student's prayer, 493

The writer's prayer, ibid.

77/6- characters of a believing Christian, in paradoxes,

and seeming contradictions, 494

An advertisement touching the controversies of the

ch urch of England, 499

Certain considerations touching the better pacification

and edification of the church of England, 525

Circumstances in the government of bishops, 531

Concerning the liturgy, the ceremonies and subscription,

537

Touching a preaching ministry, 541

Touching the abuse of excommunication, 545

Touching non-residents and pluralities, 546

Touching the provision for sujjicient maintenance in the

church, 548

The translation of certain psalms into English 'verse, —

Psalm i. 553

Psalm xn. 554

Psalm xc. 555

Psalm civ. 557

Psalm cxxvi. 560

Psalm cxxxvu. 561

Psalm CXLIX. 562

NATURAL HISTORY.

CENTURY IX.

in consort touching perception in bodies in-
sensible, tending to natural divination or subtile trials.

IT is certain, that all bodies whatsoever, though they
have no sense, yet they have perception : for when
one body is applied to another, there is a kind of elec-
tion to embrace that which is agreeable, and to ex-
clude or expel that which is ingrate : and whether
the body be alterant or altered, evermore a percep-
tion precedeth operation , for else all bodies would
be alike one to another. And sometimes this percep-
tion, in some kind of bodies, is far more subtile than
the sense ; so that the sense is but a dull thing in com-
parison of it : we see a weather-glass will find the
least difference of the weather, in heat, or cold,
when men find it not. And this perception also is
sometimes at distance, as well as upon the touch ; as
\vhen the loadstone draweth iron ; or flame fireth
naphtha of Babylon, a great distance off. It is there-
fore a subject of a very noble inquiry, to inquire of the
more subtile perceptions ; for it is another key to
open n-ature> as well as the sense, and sometimes
better. And besides, it is a principal means of na-
tural divination , for that which in these perceptions
appeareth early, in the great effects, cometh long
after. It is true also, that it serveth to discover that
which is hid, as well as to foretel that which is to
come, as it is in many subtile trials; as to try whether
seeds be old or new, the sense cannot inform ; but
if you boil them in water, the new seeds will sprout
sooner : arid so of water, the taste will not discover
the best water ; but the speedy consuming of it, and
many other means, which we have heretofore set
down, will discover it. So in all physiognomy, the

VOL. II. B

2 Natural History. [Cent. IX.

lineaments.of the body will discover those natural in-
clinations of the mind which dissimulation will con-
ceal, or discipline will suppress. We shall therefore
now handle only those two perceptions, which per-
tain to natural divination and discovery ; leaving the
handling of perception in other things to be disposed
elsewhere. Now it is true, that divination is attained
by other means ; as if you know the causes, if you
know the concomitants, you may judge of the effect
to follow : and the like may be said of discovery ;
but we tie ourselves here to that divination and dis-
covery chiefly, which is caused by an early or sub-
tile perception.

The aptness or propension of air, or water, to cor-
rupt or putrify, no doubt, is to be found before it
break forth into manifest effects of diseases, blastings,
or the like. We will therefore set down some prog-
nostics of pestilential and unwholesome years.

801 . THE wind blowing much from the south with-
out rain, and worms in the oak-apple, have been
spoken of before. Also the plenty of frogs, grass-
hoppers, flies, and the like creatures bred of putre-
faction, doth portend pestilential years.

802. GREAT and early heats in the spring, and
namely in May, without winds, portend the same ;
and generally so do years with little wind or thunder.

803. GREAT droughts in summer, lasting till towards
the end of August, and some gentle showers upon
them, and then some dry weather again, do portend
a pestilent summer the year following : for about the
end of August all the sweetness of the earth, which
goeth into plants and trees, is exhaled, and much
more if the August be dry, so that nothing then can
breathe forth of the earth but a gross vapour, which is
apt to corrupt the air : and that vapour, by the first
showers, if they be gentle, is released, and cometh forth
abundantly. Therefore they that come abroad soon
after those showers, are commonly taken with sick-
ness : and in Africa, nobody will stir out of doors
after the first showers. But if the showers come ve-
hement ly, ..then they rather wash and fill the earth;

Cent. IX.} Natural History.

than give it leave to breathe forth presently. Bat if
dry weather come again, then it fixeth and continu-
eth the corruption of the air, upon the first showers
begun ; and maketh it of ill influence, even to the
next summer; except a very frosty winter discharge
it, which seldom succeedeth such droughts.

804. THE lesser infections, of the smail-pox, purple
fevers, agues, in the summer precedent, and hovering
all winter, do portend a great pestilence in the sum-
mer following ; for putrefaction doth not rise to its
height at once.

805. Ir were good to lay a piece of raw flesh or
fish in the open air; and if it putrify quickly, it is a
sign of a disposition in the air to putrefaction. And
because you cannot be informed whether the putre-
faction be quick or late, except you compare this ex-
periment with the like experiment in another year,
it were not amiss in the same year, and at the same
time, to lay one piece of flesh or fish in the open air,
•and another of the same kind and bigness within doors :
for I judge, that if a general disposition be in the air
to putrify, the flesh, or fish, will sooner putrify abroad
where the air hath more power, than in the house,
where it hath less, being many ways corrected. And
this experiment should be made about the end of
March : for that season is likeliest to discover what
the winter hath done, and what the summer follow-
ing will do, upon the air. And because the air, no
doubt, receiveth great tincture and infusion from the.
earth ; it were good to try that exposing of flesh or
fish, both upon a stake of wood some height above
the earth, and upon the flat of the earth.

806. TAKE May-dew, and see whether it putrify
quickly or no ; for that likewise may disclose the
quality of the air, and vapour of the earth, more or
less corrupted.

807. A DRY March, and a dry May, portend a
wholesome summer, if there be a showering April
between : but otherwise it is a sign of a pestilen-
tial . year.

808. As the discovery of the disposition of the air

B2

Natural History. [Cent. IX.

is good for the prognostics of wholesome and un-
wholesome years; so it is of much more use, for the
choice of places to dwell in : at the least, for lodges,
and retiring places for health : for mansion-houses
respect provisions as well as health, wherein the ex-
periments ahove-mentioned may serve.

809. BUT for the choice of places, or seats, it is
good to make trial, not only of aptness of air to cor-
rupt, but also of the moisture and dryness of the air,
and the temper of it in heat or cold ; for that may
concern health diversly. We see that there be some
houses, wherein sweet-meats will relent, and baked
meats will mould, more than in others ; and wain-
scots will also sweat more ; so that they will almost
run with water ; all which, no doubt, are caused
chiefly by moistness of the air in those seats. But
because it is better to know it before a man buildeth
his house, than to find it after, take the experiments
following.

810. LAY wool, or a sponge, or bread, in the place
you would try, comparing it with some other places;
and see whether it doth not moisten, and make the
\vool, or sponge, etc. more ponderous than the other :
and if it do, you may judge of that place, as situate
in a gross and moist air.

811. BECAUSE it is certain, that in some places,
either by the nature of the earth, or by the situation
of woods and hills, the air is more unequal than in
others; and inequality of air is ever an enemy to
health ; it were good to take two weather-glasses,
matches in all things, and to set them, for the same
hours of one day, in several places, where no shade is,
nor inclosures ; and to mark when you set them, how

, far the water cometh ; and to compare them, when
you come again, how the water standeth then ; and
if you find them unequal, you may be sure that the
place where the water is lowest is in the warmer air,
and the other in the colder. And the greater the in-

" equality be, of the ascent or descent of the water, the
greater is the inequality of the temper of the air.

812. THE predictions like wise of cold and long win-

Cent. IX.] Natural History.

ters, and hot and dry summers, are good to be known ;
as well for the discovery of the causes, as for divers
provisions. That of plenty of haws and hips, and
brier-berries, hath been spoken of before. If wain-
scot, or stone, that have used to sweat, be more dry
in the beginning of winter, or the drops of the
eaves of houses come more slowly down than they
use, it portendeth a hard and frosty winter. The
cause is, for that it sheweth an inclination of the air to
dry weather ; which in winter is ever joined with
frost.

813. GENERALLY a moist and cool summer por-
tendeth a hard winter. The cause is, for that the va^-
pours of the earth are not dissipated in the summer
by the sun ; and so they rebound upon the winter.

814. A HOT and dry summer, and autumn, and
especially if the heat and drought extend far into Sep-
tember, portendeth an open beginning of winter ;
and colds to succeed toward the latter part of the
winter, and the beginning of the spring : for till then
the former heat and drought bear the sway, and the
vapours are not sufficiently multiplied.

815. AN open and warm winter portendeth a hot
and dry summer ; for the vapours disperse into the
winter showers ; whereas cold and frost keepeth them
in, and transporteth them into the late spring and
summer following.

816. BIRDS that use to change countries at cer-
tain seasons, if they come earlier, do shew the
temperature of weather, according to that country
whence they came : as the winter birds, namely,
woodcocks, feldfares, etc, if they come earlier, and
out of the northern countries, with us shew cold win-
ters. And if it be in the same country, then they shew
a temperature of season, like unto that season in
which they come : as swallows, bats, cuckooes, etc.
that come towards summer, if they come early, shew
a hot summer to follow.

817. THE prognostics, more immediate, of weather
to follow soon after, are more certain than those of
seasons. The resounding of the sea upon the shore -, and

Natural History. [Cent. IX.

the murmur of winds in the woods, without apparent
wind, shew wind to follow; for such winds breathing
chiefly out of the earth, are not at the first perceived,
except they be pent by water or wood. And there-
fore a murmur out ot caves likewise portendeth as
much.

818. THE upper regions of the air perceive the col-
lection of the matter of tempests and winds, before
the air here below : and therefore the obscuring of
the smaller stars, is a sign of tempest following. And
of this kind you shall find a number of instances in
our inquisition De ventis.

819. GREAT mountains have a perception of the
disposition of the air to tempests, sooner than the val-
leys or plains below : and therefore they say in Wales,
when certain hills have their night-caps on, they mean
mischief. The cause is, for that tempests, which are for
the most part bred above in the middle region, as they
call it, are soonest perceived to collect in the places
next it.

820. THE air, and fire, have subtile perceptions of
wind rising, before men find it. We see the trem-
bling of a candle will discover a wind that otherwise
we do not feel ; and the flexuous burning of flames
doth shew the airbeginneth to be unquiet; and so do
coals of fire by casting off the ashes more than they
use. The cause is, for that no wind at the first, till
it hath struck and driven the air, is apparent to the
sense ; but flame is easier to move than air : and for
the ashes, it is no marvel, though wind unperceived
shake them off; for we usually try which way the
wind bloweth, by casting up grass or chaff, or such
light things into the air.

821. WHEN wind expireth from under the sea, as
it causeth some resounding of the water, whereof we
spake before, so it causeth some light motions of bub-
bles, and white circles of froth. The cause is, for
that the wind cannot be perceived by the sense, until
there be an eruption of a great quantity from under
the water ; and so it getteth into a body : whereas in
the first putting up it cometh in little portions.

Cent. IX.] Natural History.

-. 822. WE spake of the ashes that coals cast off;
and of grass and chaff carried by the wind ; so any
light thing that moveth when we find no wind,
sheweth a wind at hand : as when feathers, or down
of thistles, fly to and fro in the air.

FOR prognostics of weather from living creatures,
it is to be noted, that creatures that live in the open
air, sub dio, must needs have a quicker impression
from the air, than men that live most within doors;
and especially birds who live in the air freest and
clearest; and are aptest by their voice to tell tales
what they find; and likewise by the motion of their
flight to express the same.

823. WATER-FOWLS, as sea-gulls, moor-hens, etc.
when they flock and fly together from the sea towards
the shores; and contrariwise, land-birds, as crows,
swallows, etc. when they fly from the land to the
waters, and beat the waters with their wings, do
foreshew rain and wind. The cause is, pleasure that
both kinds take in the moistness and density of the
air; and so desire to be in motion, and upon the wing,
withersoever they would otherwise go : for it is no
marvel, that water-fowl do joy most in that air
which is likest water; and land-birds also, many of
them, delight in bathing, and moist air. For the same
reason also, many birds do prune their feathers ; and
geese do gaggle ; and crows seem to call upon rain :
all which is but the comfort they seem to receive in
the relenting of the air.

824. THE heron, when she soareth high, so as
sometimes she is seen to pass over a cloud, sheweth
winds : but kites flying aloft shew fair and dry weather.
The cause may be, for that they both mount most in-
to the air of that temper wherein they delight : and the
heron being a water-fowl, taketh pleasure in the air
that is condensed; and besides, being but heavy of
wing, needeth the help of the grosser air. But the
kite affecteth not so much the grossness of the air, as
the cold and freshness thereof; for being a bird of
prey, and therefore hot, she delighteth in the fresh
air; and, many times, flyeth against the wind; as

8 Natural History. [Gent. IX,

trouts and salmons swim against the stream. And
yet it is true also, that all birds find an ease in the
depth of the air; as swimmers do in a. deep water.
And therefore when they are aloft, they can uphold
themselves with their wings spread, scarce moving
them.

825. FISHES, when they play towards the top of
the water, do commonly foretel rain. The cause is,
for that a fish hating the dry, will not approach the
air till it groweth moist ; and when it is dry, will fly
it, and swim lower.

826. BEASTS do take comfort generally in a moist
air; and it maketh them eat their meat better; and
therefore sheep will get up betimes in the morning to
feed against rain: and cattle, and deer, and conies,
will feed hard before rain ; and a heifer will put up her
nose, and snufFin the air against rain.

827. THE trefoil against rain swelleth in the stalk $
and so standeth more upright; for by wet, stalks do
erect, and leaves bow down. There is a small red
flower in the stubble-fields, which country-people call
t}ie w incopipe ; which if it open in the morning, you
may be sure of a fair day to follow.

828. EVEN in men, aches, and hurts, and corns,
do engrieve either towards rain, or towards frost: for
the one maketh the humours more to abound ; and the
other maketh them sharper. So we see both extremes
bring the gout.

829. WORMS, vermin, etc. do foreshew likewise
rain : for earth-worms will come forth, and moles will
cast up more, and fleas bite more, against rain.

830. SOLID bodies likewise foreshew rain. As
stones and wainscot when they sweat: and boxes and
pegs of wood, when they draw and wind hard;
though the former be but from an outward cause ; for
that the stone, or wainscot, turneth and beateth back
the air against itself; but the latter is an inward
swelling of the body of the wood itself.

Cent. IX.} Natural History. 9

Experiment solitary touching the nature of appetite in the

stomach.

831. APPETITE is moved chiefly by things that are
cold and dry ; the cause is, for that cold is a kind of
indigence of nature, and calleth upon supply ; and so
is dryness : and therefore all sour things, as vinegar,
juice of lemons, oil of vitriol, etc. provoke appetite.
And the disease which they call appetitus can'mus,
consisteth in the matter of an acid and glassy phlegm
in the mouth of the stomach. Appetite is also moved
by sour things ; for that sour things induce a contrac-
tion in the nerves placed in the mouth of the stomach,
which is a great cause of appetite. As for the cause
why onions, and salt, and pepper, in baked meats,
move appetite, it is by velljcation of those nerves ; for
motion whetteth. As for wormwood, olives, capers,
and others of that kind, which participate of bitterness,
they move appetite by abstersion. So as there be
four principal causes of appetite ; the refrigeration
of the stomach joined with some dryness, contraction,
vellication, and abstersion ; besides hunger; which is
an emptiness; and yet over-fasting doth, many times,
cause the appetite to cease ; for that want of meat
maketh the stomach draw humours, and such hu-
mours as are light and choleric, which quench appe-
tite most.

Experiment solitary touching sweetness of odour from the

rainbow.

832. IT hath been observed by the ancients, that
where a rainbow seemeth to hang over, or to touch,
there breatheth forth a sweet smell. The cause is, for
that this happeneth but in certain matters, which
have in themselves some sweetness ; which the gen-
tle dew of the rainbow doth draw forth : and the like
do soft . showers ; for they also make the ground
sweet : but none are so delicate as the dew of the
rainbow where it falleth. It may be also that the
water itself hath some sweetness ; for the rainbow
consisteth of a glomeration of small drops, which
cannot possibly fall but from the air that is very low ;

10 Natural History. [Cent. IX.

and therefore may hold the very sweetness of the herbs
and flowers, as a distilled water: for rain, and other
dew that fall from high, cannot preserve the smell,
being dissipated in the drawing up: neither do we
know, whether some water itself may not have some
degree of sweetness. It is true, that we find it sensibly
in no pool, river, nor fountain ; but good earth newly
turned up, hath a freshness and good scent; which
water, if it be not too equal, for equal objects never
move the sense, may also have. Certain it is, that
bay-salt, which is but a kind of water congealed, will
sometimes smell like violets.

Experiment solitary touching sweet smells.

833. To sweet smells heat is requisite to concoct
the matter; and some moisture to spread the breath
of them. For heat, we see that woods and spices
are more odorate in the hot countries than in the
cold : for moisture, we see that things too much dried
lose their sweetness : and flowers growing, smell
better in a morning or evening than at noon. Some
sweet smells are destroyed by approach to the fire ; as
violets, wall-flowers, gilly-flowers, pinks ; and gene-
rally all flowers that have cool and delicate spirits.
Some continue both on the fire, and from the fire ;
as rose-water, etc. Some do scarce come forth, or at
least not so pleasantly, as by means of the fire ; as
juniper, sweet gums, etc. and all smells that are en-
closed in a fast body : but generally those smells are
the most grateful, where the degree of heat is small ,
or where the strength of the smell is allayed ; for
tliese things do rather woo the sense, than satiate iU
And therefore the smell of violets and roses exceedeth
in sweetness that of spices and gums ; and the strongest
sort of smells are best in a weft afar off.

Experiment solitary touching the corporeal substance of

smells.

834. IT is certain, that no smell issueth but with
emission of some corporeal substance ; not as it is in
light, and colours, and in sounds. For we see plain.lv,

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 11

that smell doth spread nothing that distance that the
other do. It is true, that some woods of oranges,
and heaths of rosemary, will smell a great way into
the sea, perhaps twenty miles; but what is that, since
a peal of ordnance will do as much, which moveth
in a small compass ? Whereas those woods and heaths
are of vast spaces ; besides, we see that smells do
adhere, to hard bodies ; as in perfuming of gloves, etc.
which sheweth them corporeal ; and do last a great
while, which sounds and light do not.

Experiment solitary touching fetid and fragrant odours.

835. THE excrements of most creatures smell ill;
chiefly .to the same creature that voideth them : for
we see, besides that of man, that pigeons and horses
thrive best, if their houses and stables be kept sweet ;
and so of cage-birds : and the cat burieth that which
she voideth : and it holdeth chiefly in those beasts
which feed upon flesh. Dogs almost only of beasts
delight in fetid odours ; which sheweth there is some-
what in their sense of smell differing from the smells
of other beasts. But the cause why excrements smell
ill, is manifest ; for that the body itself rejecteth them ;
much more the spirits : and we see that those excre-
ments that are of the first digestion, smell the worst ;
as the excrements from the belly : those that are from
the second digestion less ill ; as urine : and those that
are from the third, yet less ; for sweat is not so bad
as the other two ; especially of some persons, that
are full of heat. Likewise most putrefactions are of
an odious smell : for they smell either fetid or mouldy.
The cause may be, for that putrefaction doth bring
forth such a consistence, as is most contrary to the
consistence of the body whilst it is sound : for it is a
mere dissolution of that form. Besides, there is ano-
ther reason, which is profound : and it is, that the
objects that please any of the senses have all some
equality, and as it were order in their composition ;
but where those are wanting, the object is ever in-
grate. So mixture of many disagreeing colours is
ever unpleasant to the eye : mixture of discordant

12 Natural History. [Cent. IX.

sounds is unpleasant to the ear : mixture, or hotch-
potch of many tastes, is unpleasant to the taste : harsh-
ness and ruggedness of bodies is unpleasant to the
touch : now it is certain, that all putrefaction, being
a dissolution of the first form, is a mere confusion and
unformed mixture of the part. Nevertheless it is
strange, and seemeth to cross the former observation,
that some putrefactions and excrements do yield ex-
cellent odours, as civet and musk ; and, as some think,
ambergrease : for divers take it, though improbably,
to come from the sperm of a fish : and the moss we
spake of from apple-trees, is little better than an ex-
cretion. The reason may be, for that there passeth
in the excrements, and remaineth in the putrefactions,
some good spirits; especially where they proceed
from creatures that are very hot. But it may be also
joined with a further cause, which is more subtile ;
and it is, that the senses love not to be over-pleased,
but to have a commixture of somewhat that is in
itself ingrate. Certainly, we see how discords in
music, falling upon concords, make the sweetest
vStrains: and we see again, what strange tastes delight
the taste ; as red herrings, caviary, parmesan, etc.
And it may be the same hoideth in smells : for those
kind of smells that we have mentioned, are all strong,
and do pull and vellicate the sense. And we find
also, that places where men urine, commonly have
some smell of violets : and urine, if one hath eaten
nutmeg, hath so too.

THE slothful, general, and indefinite contempla-
tions, and notions of the elements and their con-
jugations ; of the influences of heaven ; of heat, cold,
moisture, drought, qualities active, passive, and the
]ike ; have swallowed up the true passages, and pro-
cesses, and affects, and consistences of matter and na-
tural bodies. Therefore they are to be set aside, be-
ing but notional and ill limited ; and definite axioms
are to be drawn out of measured instances : and so
assent to be made to the more general axioms by
scale. And of these kinds of processes of natures and

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 1 3

characters of matter, we shall now set down some
instances.

Experiment solitary touching the causes of putrefaction.

836. ALL putrefactions come chiefly from the in-
ward spirits of the body ; and partly also from the am-
bient body, be it air, liquor, or whatsoever else. And
this last, by two means : either by ingress of the sub-
stance of the ambient body into the body putrified ;
or by excitation and solicitation of the body putrified,
and the parts thereof, by the body ambient. As for
the received opinion, that putrefaction is caused,
either by cold, or peregrine and preternatural heat, it
is but nugation : for cold in things inanimate, is the
greatest enemy that is to putrefaction ; though it ex-
tinguisheth vivification, which everconsisteth inspirits
attenuate, which the cold doth congeal and coagu-
late. And as for the peregrine heat, it is thus far
true, that if the proportion of the adventive heat be
greatly predominant to the natural heat and spirits of
the body, it tendeth to dissolution, or notable altera-
tion. But this is wrought by emission, or suppression,
or suffocation, of the native spirits ; and also by the
disordination and discomposure of the tangible parts,
and other passages of nature, and not by a conflict of
heats.

Experiment solitary touching bodies imperfectly mixed.

837. IN versions, or main alterations of bodies,
there is a medium between the body, as it is at first,
and the body resulting ; which medium is corpus im-
perfecte mistum, and is transitory, and not durable ;
as mists, smokes, vapours, chylus in the stomach,
living creatures in the first vivification : and the
middle action,whichproduceth such imperfect bodies,
is fitly called, by some of the ancients, inquination
or inconcoction, which is a kind of putrefaction: for
the parts are in confusion, till they settle one way or
other.

14 Xatural History. [Cent. IX.

Experiment solitary touching concoction and crudity.

838. THE word concoction, or digestion, is chiefly
taken into use from living creatures and their organs ;
and from thence extended to liquors and fruits, etc.
Therefore they speak of meat concocted : urine and
excrements concocted ; and the four digestions, in
the stomach, in the liver, in the arteries and nerves,
and in the several parts of the body, are likewise
called concoctions : and they are ail made to be the
works of heat; all which notions are but ignorant
catches of a few things, which are most obvious to
mens observations. The constantest notion of con-
coction is, that it should signify the degrees of altera-
tion of one body into another, from crudity to perfect
concoction ; which is the ultimity of that action or
process ; and while the body to be converted and
altered is too strong for the efficient that should con-
vert or alter it, whereby it resisteth and holdeth fast
in some degree the first form or consistence, it is all
that while crude and inconcoct ; and the process is
to be called crudity and inconcoction. It is true, that
concoction is in great part the work of heat, but not
the work of heat alone : for all things that further the
conversion, or alteration, as rest, mixture of a body
already concocted, etc. are also means to concoc-
tion. And there are of concoction two periods;
the one assimilation, or absolute conversion and sub-
action ; the other maturation , whereof the former is
most conspicuous in the bodies of living creatures -, in
which there is an absolute conversion and assimilation
of the nourishment into the body : and likewise in
the bodies of plants : and again in metals, where there
is a full transmutation. The other, which is matu-
ration, is seen in liquors and fruits j wherein there is
not desired, nor pretended, an utter conversion, but
only an alteration to that form which is most sought
for man's use ; as in clarifying of drinks, ripening of
fruits, etc. But note, that there be two kinds of abso-
lute conversions ; the one is, when a body is converted
into another body, which was before j as when nou-

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 15

rishment is turned into flesh ; that is it which we call
assimilation. The other is, when the conversion is
into a body merely new, and which was not before; as
if silver should 'be turned to gold, or iron to cop-
per : and this conversion is better called, for distinc-
tion sake, transmutation.

Experiments solitary touching alterations, which may
be called majors.

839. THERE are also divers other great alterations
of matter and bodies, besides those that tend to con-
coction and maturation ; for whatsoever doth so alter
a body, as it returneth not again to that it was, may
be called alter atlo major ; as when meat is boiled, or
roasted, or fried, etc. or when bread and meat are
baked ; or when cheese is made of curds, or butter of
cream, or coals of wood, or bricks of earth; and a
number of others. But to apply notions philosophical
to plebeian terms ; or to say, where the notions cannot
fitly be reconciled, that there wanteth a term or no-
menclature for it, as the ancients used, they be but
shifts of ignorance; for knowledge will be ever a
wandering and indigested thing, if it be but a com-
mixture of a few notions that are at hand and occur,
and not excited from a sufficient number of instances,
and those well collated.

THE consistences of bodies are very divers : dense,
rare ; tangible, pneumatical ; volatile, fixed ; deter-
minate, not determinate ; hard, soft ; cleaving, not
cleaving ; congelable, not congelable ; liquefiable,
•not liquefiable ; fragile, tough ; flexible, inflexible ;
tractile, or to be drawn forth in length, intractiie ;
porous, solid ; equal and smooth, unequal ; venous
and fibrous, and with grains entire ; and divers others;
all which to refer to heat, and cold, and moisture,
and drought, is a compendious and inutile specula-
tion. But of these see principally our Abcedarium ?ia-
tuf\c ; and otherwise sparsim in this our Sylra Syl-
varum : nevertheless, in some good part, we shall
handle divers of them now presently.

16 Natural History. [Cent.

Experiment solitary touching bodies liquefiable, mid

not liquefiable.

840. LIQUEFIABLK, and not liquefiable, proceed
from these causes : liquefaction is evef caused by the
detention of the spirits, which play within the body
and open it. Therefore such bodies as are more tur-
gid of spirit ; or that have their spirits more straitly
imprisoned; or, again, that hold them better pleased
and content, are liquefiable : for these three disposi-
tions of bodies do arrest the emission of the spirits*
An example of the first two properties is in metals •
and of the last in grease, pitch, sulphur, butter, wax,
etc. The disposition not to liquefy proceedeth from
the easy emission of the spirits, whereby the grosser
parts contract ; and therefore bodies jejune of spirits,
or which part with their spirits more willingly, are
not liquefiable ; as wood, clay, free-stone, etc. But
yet even many of those bodies that wrill not melt, or
will hardly melt, will notwithstanding soften; as iron
in the forge ; and a stick .bathed in hot ashes, which
thereby becometh more flexible. Moreover there
are some bodies which do liquefy or dissolve by fire ;
as metals, wax, etc. and other bodies which dis-
solve in water ; as salt, sugar, etc. The cause of the
former proceedeth from the dilatation of the spirits by
heat : the cause of the latter proceedeth from the
opening of the tangible parts, which desire to receive
the liquor. Again, there are some bodies that dis-
solve with both ; as gum, etc. And those be such
bodies, as on the one side have good store of spirit ;
and on the other side, have the tangible parts indigent
of moisture; for the former helpeth to the dilating of
the spirits by fire ; and the latter stimulated! the parts
to receive the liquor.

Experiment solitary touching bodies fragile and tough.

811. OF bodies, some are fragile; and some are
tough, and not fragile ; and in the breaking, some
fragile bodies break but where the force is ; some
'shatter and fly in many places. Of fragility, the cause
is an impotency to be extended j and therefore stone

Cent. IX.] Natural History-. 17

is more fragile than metal ; and so fictile "earth is more
fragile than crude earth ; and dry wood than green.
And the cause of this unaptness to extension, is the
small quantity of spirits, for it is the spirit that fur-
thereth the extension or dilatation of bodies, and it is
ever concomitant with porosity^ and with dryness in
the tangible parts \ contrariwise, tough bodies have
more spirit, and fewer pores, and moister tangible
parts : therefore we see that parchment or leather will
stretch, paper wiil not; woollen cloth will tenter,
linen scarcely*

Experiment solitary touching the two kinds of pneuma-
ticals in bodies.

842. ALL solid bodies consist of parts of two seve-
ral natures, pneumatical and tangible; and it is well
to be noted, that the pneumatical substance is in some
bodies the native spirit of the body, and in some other,
plain air that is gotten in ; as in bodies desiccate
by heat or age : for in them, when the native spirit
goeth forth, and the moisture with it, the air with
time getteth into the pores. And those bodies are
ever the more fragile ; for the native spirit is more
yielding and extensive, especially to follow the parts,
than air. The native spirits also admit great diver-
sity ; as hot, cold, active, dull, etc. whence proceed
most of the virtues and qualities, as we call them, of
bodies : but the air intermixed is without virtues, and
maketh things insipid, and without any extimulation.

Experiment solitary touching concretion and dissolution
of bodies.

843. THE concretion of bodies is commonly solved
by the contrary ; as ice, which is congealed by cold,
is dissolved by heat ; salt and sugar, which are ex-
cocted by heat, are dissolved by cold and moisture.
The cause is, for that these operations are rather re-
turns to their former nature, than alterations ; so that
the contrary cureth. As for oil, it doth neither*
easily congeal with cold, nor thicken with heat.
The cause of both effects, though they be produced by
contrary efficients, seemeth to be the same ; and that

VOL, II. C

I * Natural History. [Cent.

is, because the spirit of the oil by either means ex-
haleth little, for the cold keepeth it in ; and the heat,
except it be vehement, doth not call it forth. As for cold,
though it take hold of the tangible parts, yet as to the
spirits, it doth rather make them swell than congeal
them : as when ice is congealed in a cup, the ice will
swell instead of contracting, and sometimes rift.

Experiment solitary touching hard and soft bodies.

844. OF bodies, some we see are hard, and some
soft: the hardness is caused chiefly by the jejuneness
of the spirits, and their imparity with the tangible
parts : both which, if they be in a greater degree,
make them not only hard, but fragile, and less en-
during of pressure ; as steel, stone, glass, dry wood,
etc. Softness cometh contrariwise, by the greater
quantity of spirits, which everhelpeth to induce yield-
ing and cession, and by the more equal spreading of
the tangible parts, which thereby are more sliding and
following ; as in gold, lead, wax, etc. But note, that
soft bodies, as we use the word, are of two kinds ;
the one, that easily givcth place to another body, but
altereth not bulk, by rising in other places : and there-
fore we see that wax, if you put any thing into it,
doth not rise in bulk, but only giveth place : for you
may not think, that in printing of wax, the wax riseth
up at all ; but only the depressed part giveth place,
and the other remaineth as it was. The other that
altereth bulk in the cession, as water, or other liquors,
If you put a stone or any thing into them, they give
place indeed easily, but then they rise all over ; which
is a false cession ; for it is in place, and not in body.

Experiment solitary touching bodies ductile and tensile.
315. ALL bodies ductile and tensile, as metals,
that will be drawn into wires; wool and tow, that
\vill be drawn into yarn or thread, have in them
the appetite of not discontinuing strong, which mak-
'eth them follow the force that pulleth them out ; and
yet so, as not to discontinue or forsake their own
body. Viscous bodies likewise, as pitch, wax, bird-
lime, cheese toasted, will draw forth and rope. But

Cent. IX.] Natural History.

the difference between bodies fibrous and bodies vis*
ecus is plain; for all wool, and tow, and cotton*
and silk, especially raw silk, have, besides their
desire of continuance, in regard of the tenuity of their
thread, a greediness of moisture; and by moisture to
join and incorporate with other thread ; especially if
there be a little wreathing; as appeareth by the twist-
ing of thread, and the practice of twirling about of
spindles. And we see also, that gold and silver
thread cannot be made without twisting.

Experiment solitary touching other passions of matter ,
and characters of bodies.

846. THE differences of impressible and not impres-
sible; figurable and not figurable ; mouldable and
not mouldable ; scissile and not scissile ; and many
other passions of matter, are plebeian notions, ap-
plied unto the instruments and uses which men ordi-
narily practise ; but they are all but the effects of some
of these causes following, which we will enumerate
without applying them, because that will be too long.
The first is the cession, or not cession of bodies, into
a smaller space or room, keeping the outward bulk,
and not flying up. The second is the stronger or
weaker appetite in bodies to continuity, and to fly
discontinuity. The third is the disposition of bodies
to contract or not contract : and again, to extend, or
not extend. The fourth is the small quantity, or
great quantity of the pneumatical in bodies. The
fifth is the nature of the pneumatical, whether it be
native spirit of the body, or common air. The sixth
is the nature of the native spirits in the body, whether
they be active and eager, or dull and gentle. The
seventh is the emission or detention of the spirits in
bodies. The eighth is the dilatation or contraction of
the spirits in bodies, while they are detained. The
ninth is the collocation of the spirits in bodies^ whe-
ther the collocation be equal or unequal ; and again,
whether the spirits be coacervate or diffused. The
tenth is the density or rarity of the tangible parts. The
eleventh is the equality or inequality of the tangible

c 2

20 Natural Itislory. [Cent. IX,

parts. The twelfth is the digestion, or crudity of the
tangible parts. The thirteenth is the nature of the
matter, whether sulphureous or mercurial, watery or
oily, dry and terrestrial, or moist and liquid; which
natures of sulphureous and mercurial, seem to be na-
tures radical and principal. The fourteenth is the
placing of the tangible parts in length or transverse^
as it is in the warp and the woof of textiles, more in-
ward or more outward, etc. The fifteenth is the po-
rosity or imporosity betwixt the tangible parts, and
the greatness or smallness of the pores. The sixteenth
is the collocation and posture of the pores. There may
be more causes ; but these do occur for the present.

Experiment solitary touching induration by sympathy.

847. TAKE lead and melt it, and in the midst of
it, when it beginneth to congeal, make a little dint
or hole, and put quicksilver wrapped in a piece of
linen into that hole, and the quicksilver will fix and
run no more, and endure the hammer. This is a noble
instance of induration, by consent of one body with
another, and motion of excitation to imitate ; for to
ascribe it only to the vapour of lead, is less probable.
Query, whether the fixing may be in such a degree,
as it will be figured like other metals? For if so, you
may make works of it for some purposes, so they
come not near the fire.

Experiment solitary touching honey and sugar.

848. SUGAR hath put down the use of honey, inso-
much as we have lost those observations and prepara-
tions of honey which the ancients had, when it was
more in price. First* it seemcth that there was in
old time tree-honey, as well as bee-honey, which was
the tear or blood issuing from the tree : insomuch as
one of the ancients relateth, that in Trebisond there
was honey issuing from the box trees, which made
men mad. Again, in ancient time there Was a kind
of honey, which either of its own nature or. by art,
would grow as hard as sugar, and was not so luscious
as ours. They had also a wine of honey,, which they.

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 21

made thus. They crushed the honey into a great
quantity of water, and then strained the liquor : after
they boiled it in a copper to the half; then they
poured it into earthen vessels for a smalltime; and
after tunned it into vessels of wood, and kept it for
many years. They have also at this day in Russia and
those northern countries, mead simple, which, well
made and seasoned, is a good wholesome drink, and
very clear. They use also in Wales a compound
-drink of mead, with herbs and spices. But mean
while it were good, in recompence of that we have
lost in honey, there were brought in use a sugar-mead,
for so we may call it, though without any mixture at
all of honey ; and to brew it, and keep it stale, as
they use mead : for certainly, though it would not be
so abstersive, and opening, and solutive a drink as
mead; yet it \vill be more .grateful to the stomach,
and more lenitive and fit to be used in sharp diseases:
for we see, that the use of sugar in beer and ale hath
good effects in such cases.

Experiment solitary touching the finer sort of base

metals.

849. IT is reported by the ancients, that there was
a kind of steel in some places, which would polish
almost as white and bright as silver. And that there
was in India a kind of brass, which, being polished^
jcould scarce be discerned from gold. This was in the
natural use : but I am doubtful, whether men have
sufficiently refined metals, which we count base ; as
whether iron, brass, and tin be refined to the height ?
But when they come to such a fineness, as serveth the
ordinary use, they try no farther.

Experiment solitary touching cements and quarries.

850. THERE have been found certain cements un-
der earth that are very soft ; and yet, taken forth into
the sun, harden as hard as marble: there are also or-
dinary quarries in Somersetshire, which in the quarry
cut soft to any bigness, and in the building prove
firm and hard.

22 Natural History. [Cent. IX .

Experimejit solitary touching the altering of the colour
of hairs and feathers.

851. LIVING creatures generally do change their
hair with age, turning to be grey and white: as is
seen in men, though some earlier, some later; in
horses that are dappled, and turn white ; in old squir-
rels that turn grisly ; and many others. So do some
birds; as cygnets from grey turn white ; hawks from
brown turn more white. And some birds there be
that upon their moulting do turn colour; as robin-red-
breasts, after their moulting, grow to be red again by
degrees ; so do goldfinches upon the head. The cause
is, for that moisture doth chiefly colour hair and fea-
thers, and dryness turneth them grey and white; now
hair in age waxeth dryer : so do feathers. As for fea-
thers, after moulting, they are young feathers, and so
all one as the feathers of young birds. So the beard is
younger than the hair of the head, and doth, for the
most part, wax hoary later. Out of this ground a
man may devise the means of altering the colour of
birds, and the retardation of hoary hairs. But of
this see in the fifth experiment.

Experiment solitary touching the differences of living
creatures, male and female.

852. THE difference between male and female, in
some creatures, is not to be discerned, otherwise than
in the parts of generation : as in horses and mares,
dogs and bitches, doves he and she, and others. But
some differ in magnitude, and that diversly ; for in
most the male is the greater; as in man, pheasants,
peacocks, turkeys, and the like : and in some few, as
in hawks, the female. Some differ in the hair and
feathers, both in the quantity, crispation, and colours
ot them ; as he-lions are hirsute, and have great
manes : the she-lions are smooth like cats. Bulls are,
more crisp upon the forehead than cows ; the pea-
cock, and pheasant-cock, and goldfinch-cock, have
glorious and fine colours ; the hens have not. Gene-
rally the males in birds have the fairest feathers Some
differ in divers features : as bucks have horns, does

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 23

none ; rams have more wreathed horns than ewes ;
cocks have great combs and spurs, hens little or none ;
boars have great fangs, sows much less; the turkey*
cock hath great and swelling gills, the hen hath less;
men have generally deeper and stronger voices than
women. Some differ in faculty ; as the cocks amongst
singing-birds are the best singers. The chief cause of
all these, no doubt, is, for that the males have more
strength of heat than the females; which appeareth
manifestly in this, that all young creatures males are
Jike females ; and so are eunuchs, and gelt creatures
of all kinds, liker females. Now heat causeth great-
ness of growth, generally, where there is moisture
enough to work upon : but if there be found in any
creature, which is seen rarely, an over-great heat in
proportion to the moisture, in them the female is the
greater ; as in hawks and sparrows. And if the heat
be balanced with the moisture, then there is no dif-
ference to be seen between male and female ; as in
the instances of horses and dogs. We see also, that
the horns of oxen and cows, for the most part, are
larger than the bulls ; which is caused by abundance
of moisture, which in the horns of the bull faileth.
Again, heat causeth pilosity and crispation, and so
likewise beards in men. It also expelleth finer
moisture, which want of heat cannot expel ; and that
is the cause of the beauty and variety of feathers.
Again, heat doth put forth many excrescences, and
much solid matter, which want of heat cannot do :
and this is the cause of horns, and of the greatness of
them : and of the greatness of the combs and spurs of
cocks, gills of turkey-cocks, and fangs of boars. Heat
also dilateth the pipes and organs, which causeth the
deepness of the voice. Again, heat refineth the spirits,
and that causeth the cock singing-bird to excel
the hen.

Experiment solitary touching the comparative magnitude
of living creatures.

853. THERE be fishes greater than any beasts; as
the whale is far greater than the elephant : and beasts

24 Natural History. [Cent. IX,

are generally greater than birds. For fishes, the cause
may be, that because they live not in the air, they
have not their moisture drawn and sucked by the air
and sun-beams. Also they rest always in a manner,
and are supported by the water; whereas motion and
labour do consume. As for the greatness of beasts
more than of birds, it is caused, for that beasts stay
longer time in the womb than birds, and there nourish
and grow ; whereas in birds, after the egg laid, there
is no further growth or nourishment from the female $
for the setting doth vivify, and not nourish.

'Experiment solitary touching exossation of fruits.

854. WE have partly touched before the means of
producing fruits without cores or stones. And this
we add farther, that the cause must be abundance of
moisture ; for that the core and stone are made of
a dry sap : and we see, that it is possible to make a
tree put forth only in blossom, without fruit ; as in
cherries with double flowers ; much more into fruit
without stone or cores. It is reported, that a cion of
an apple, grafted upon a colewort stalk, sendeth forth
a great apple without a core. It is not unlikely, that
if the inward pith of a tree were taken out, so that
the juice came only by the bark, it would work the
effect. For it hath been observed, that in pollards, if
the water get in on the top, and they become hollow,
they put forth the more. We add also, that it is der
livered for certain by some, that if the cion be grafted
the small end downwards, it will make fruit have
little or no cores and stones.

Experiment solitary touching the melioration of tobacco <

855. TOBACCO is a thing of great price, if it be in
request : for an acre of it will be worth, as is affirmed,
two hundred pounds by the year towards charge.
The charge of making the ground and otherwise is
great, but nothing to the profit ; but the English to-
bacco hath small credit, as being too dull and earthy :
nay, the Virginian tobacco, though that be in a hotter
climate, can get no credit for the same case : so that

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 25

a trial to make tobacco more aromatical, and better
concocted, here in England, were a thing of great
profit. Some have gone about to do it by drenching
the English tobacco in a decoction or infusion of
Indian tobacco : but those are but sophistications and
toys; for nothing that is once perfect, and hath run
its race, can receive much amendment, You must
ever resort to the beginnings of things for melioration.
The way of maturation of tobacco must, as in other
plants, be from the heat either of the earth or of the
sun: we see some leading of this in musk-melons,
which are sown upon a hot bed dunged below, upon a
bank turned upon the south sun, to give heat by re-
flection ; laid upon tiles, which increaseth the heat,
and covered with straw to keep them from cold.
They remove them also, which addeth some life : and
by these helps they become as good in England, as in
Italy or Provence. These, and the like means, may
be tried in tobacco. Inquire also of the steeping of
the roots in some such liquor as may give them
vigour to put forth strong.

Experiment solitary touching several heats working
the same effects.

856. HEAT of the sun for the maturation of fruits ;
yea, and the heat of vivification of living creatures,
are both represented and supplied by the heat of fire ;
and likewise the heats of the sun, and life, are re-
presented one by the other. Trees set upon the backs
of chimneys do ripen fruit sooner. Vines, that have
been drawn in at the window of a kitchen, have sent
forth grapes ripe a month at least before others.
Stoves at the back of walls bring forth oranges here
with us. Eggs, as is reported by some, have been
hatched in the warmth of an oven. It is reported by
the ancients, that the ostrich layeth her eggs under
sand, where the heat of the sun discloseth them.

Experiment solitary touching szvelling and dilatation in
boilin

.

857. BARLEY in the boiling swelleth not much;
wheat swelleth morej rice extremely ; insomuch as a

2.6 Natural History. [Gent. IX .

quarter of a pint unboiled, will arise to a pint boiled.
The cause no doubt is, for that the more close and
compact the body is, the more it will dilate : now
barley is the most hollow; wheat more solid than
that; and rice most solid of all. It may be also that
some bodies have a kind of lentour, and more de-
pertible nature than others; as we see it evident in
coloration; for a small quantity of saffron will tinc-
ture more than a very great quantity of brasil or
wine.

Experiment solitary touching the dulcoratlon of fruits.

858. FRUIT groweth sweet by rolling, or pressing
them gently with the hand; as rolling pears, da*
mascenes, etc. by rottenness, as medlars, services,
sloes, hips, etc. by time ; as apples, wardens, pome-
granates, etc. by certain special maturations ; as by
laying them in hay, straw, etc. and by fire ; as in
roasting, stewing, baking, etc. The cause of the
sweetness by rolling and pressing is emollition, which
they properly induce ; as in beating of stock-fish,
flesh, etc. by rottenness is, for that the spirits of the
fruit by putrefaction gather heat, and thereby digest
the harder part, for in all putrefactions there is a de-
gree of heat: by time and keeping is, because the
spirits of the body do ever feed upon the tangible
parts, and attenuate them: by several maturations is,
by some degree of heat : and by fire is, because it is
the proper work of heat to refine and to incorporate ;
and all sourness consisteth in some grossness of the
body; and all incorporation doth jnake the mixture
of the body more equal in all the parts s whichever
induceth a milder taste.

Experiment solitary touching flesh edible, and not edible.

859. OF fleshes, some are edible; some, except
it be in famine, not. For those that are not edible,
the cause is, for that they have commonly too much
bitterness of taste ; and therefore those creatures which
are fierce and choleric are not edible; as lions, wolves,
squirrels, dogs, foxes, horses, etc. As for kine, sheep,

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 27

goats, deer, swine, conies, hares, etc. we see theyare
mild and fearful. Yet it is true, that horses, which
are beasts of courage, have been, and are eaten by
some nations; as, the Scythians were called Hippo-
phagi ; and the Chinese eat horse-flesh at this day ;
and some gluttons have used to have colts-flesh
baked. In birds, such as are carnivore, and birds of
prey, are commonly no good meat ; but the reason is,
rather the choleric nature of those birds, than their
feeding upon flesh: for pewets, gulls, shovellers,
ducks, do feed upon flesh, and yet are good meat.
And we see that those birds which are of prey, or feed
upon flesh, are good meat when they are very young;
as hawks, rooks out of the nest, owls, etc. Man's
flesh is not eaten. The reasons are three: first, be-
cause men in humanity do abhor it: secondly, because
no living creature that dieth of itself is good to eat:
and therefore the cannibals themselves cat no man's
flesh of those that die of themselves, but of such as
are slain. The third is, because there must be gene-
rally some disparity between the nourishment and the
body nourished : and they must not be over-near, or like :
yet we see, that in great weaknesses and consump-
tions, men have been sustained with woman's milk :
and Ficinus, fondly as I conceive, adviseth, for the
prolongation of life, that a vein be opened in the arm
of some wholesome young man, and the blood to be
sucked. It is said that witches do greedily eat man's
flesh y which if it be true, besides a devilish appetite
in them, it is likely to proceed, for that man's flesh
may send up high and pleasing vapours, which may
stir the imagination; and witches felicity is chiefly in
imagination, as hath been said.

Experiment solitary touching the salamander.

860. THERE is an ancient received tradition of the
salamander, that it liveth in the fire, and hath force
also to extinguish it. It must have two things, if it
be true, to this operation: the one a very close skin,
whereby flame, which in the midst is not so hot, can-
not enter 3 for we see that if the palm of the hand be

28 Natural History. [Cent. IX.

anointed thick with white of egg, and then aqua-vita
be poured upon it, and inflamed, yet one may endure
the flarne a pretty while. The other is some extreme
cold and quenching virtue in the body of that crea-
ture, which choketh the fire. We see that milk
quencheth wild-fire better than water, because it en-
treth better.

Experiment solitary touching the contrary operations of
time upon fruits and liquors,

861. TIME doth change fruit, as apples, pears,
pomegranates, etc. from more sour to more sweet: but
contrariwise liquors, even those that are of the juice
of fruit, from more sweet to more sour : as wort, must,
new verjuice, ttc. The cause is, the congregation of
the spirits together : for in both kinds the spirit is at-
tenuated by time; but in the first kind it is more dif-
fused, and more mastered by the grosser parts, which
the spirits do but digest : but in drinks the spirits do
reign, and finding less opposition of the parts, become
themselves more strong ; which causeth also more f
strength in the liquor; such as if the spirits be of the
hotter sort, the liquor becometh apt to burn : but in
time, it causeth likewise, when the higher spirits are
evaporated, more sourness.

Experiment solitary touching blows and bruises.

862. IT hath been observed by the ancients, that
plates of metal, and especially of brass, applied pre-
sently to a blow, will keep it down from swelling,
the cause is repercussion, without humectation or en-
trance of any body: for the plate hath only a virtual
cold, which doth not search into the hurt ; whereas
all plaisters and ointments do enter. Surely, the cause
that blows and bruises induce swellings is, for that
the spirits resorting to succour the part that laboureth,
draw also the humours with them: for wre see, that it is
not the repulse and the return of the humour in the
part strucken that causeth it ; for that gouts and
tooth-aches cause swelling, where there is no per-
cussion at all.

Cent. IX.] Natural History. .

Experiment solitary touching the orrice ro'ot.

863. Tn^nature of the orrice root is almost singu-
lar; for there he few odoriferous roots: and in those:
that are in any degree sweet, it is but the same sweet-
ness with the wood or leaf: but the orrice is not
sweet in the leaf; neither is the flower any thing so
sweet as the root. The root seemeth to have a ten-
der dainty heat; which when itcometh above ground
to the sun and the air, vanisheth : for it is a great mol-
lifier: and hath a smell like a violet.

Experiment solitary touching the compression of liquors*

861'. IT hath been observed by the ancients, that a
great vessel full, drawn into bottles, and then the li-
quor put again into the vessel, will not fill the vessel
again so full as it was, but that it may take in more
liquor : and that this holdeth more in wine than in
water. The cause may be trivial ; namely, by the.
expence of the liquor, in regard some may stick to
the sides of the bottles : but there may be a cause
more subtile : which is, that the liquor in the vessel
is not so much compressed as in the bottle; because
in the vessel the liquor meeteth with liquor chiefly ;
but in the bottles a small quantity of liquor meeteth
with the sides of the bottles, which compress it so
that it doth not open again.

Experiment solitary touching the working of water upon
air contiguous.

865. WATER, being contiguous with air, cooleth
it, but moisteneth it not, except it vapour. The
cause is, for that heat and cold have a virtual transi-
tion, without communication of substance; but mois-
ture not : and to all madefaction there is required an
imbibition : but where the bodies are of such several
levity and gravity as they mingle not, there can fol-
low no imbibition. And therefore, oil likewise lieth
at the top of the water, without commixture: and a
drop of water running swiftly over a straw or smooth
body, wetteth not.

SO Natural History. [Cent. IX.

Experiment solitary touching the nature of air.

866. STAR-LIGHT nights, yea and bright moon-
shine nights, are colder than cloudy nights. The
cause is, the dryness and fineness of the air, which
thereby becorneth more piercing and sharp ; and
therefore great continents are colder than islands: and
as for the moon, though itself inclineth the air to mois-
ture, yet when it shineth bright itargueth the air is dry.
Also close air is warmer than open air; which, it may
be, is, for that the true cause of cold is an expiration
from the globe of the earth, which in open places
is stronger ; and again, air itself, if it be not altered
by that expiration, is not without some secret degree
of heat; as it is not likewise without some secret de-
gree of light: for otherwise cats and owls could not
see in the night ; but that air hath a little light, pro-
portionable to the visual spirits of those creatures.

Experiments in consort touching the eyes and sight.

867. THE eyes do move one and the same way; for
•when one eye moveth to the nostril, the other moveth
from the nostril. The cause is motion of consent,
which in the spirits and parts spiritual is strong. But
yet use will induce the contrary ; for some can squint
when they will : and tie common tradition is, that if
children be set upon a table with a candle behind
them, both eyes will move outwards, as affecting to
see the light, and so induce squinting.

868. WE see more exquisitely with one eye shut,
than with both open. The cause is, for that the spirits
visual unite themselves more, and so become stronger.
For you may see, by looking in a glass, that when you
shut one eye, the pupil of the other eye that is open
dilateth.

869. THE eyes, if the sight meet not in one angle,
see things double. The cause is, for that seeing two
things, and seeing one thing twice, worketh the
same effect : and therefore a little pellet held between
two fingers laid across, seemeth double.

870. PORE-BLIND men see best in the dimmer lights;
and likewise have their sight stronger near hand,

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 31

than those that are not pore-blind ; and can read and
write smaller letters. The cause is, for that the spi-
rits visual in those that are pore-blind, are thinner and
rarer than in others ; and therefore the greater light
disperseth them. For the same cause they need con-
tracting ; but being contracted, are more strong than
the visual spirits of ordinary eyes are ; as when we see
through a level, the sight is the stronger ; and so is
it when you gather the eye-lids somewhat close : and
it is commonly seen in those that are pore-blind, that
they do much gather the eye-lids together. But old
men, when they would see to read, put the paper
somewhat afar off: the cause is, for that old mens spi-
rits visual, contrary to those of pore-blind men, unite
not, but when the object is at some good distance
from their eyes.

871. MEN see better, when their eyes are over-
against the sun or a candle, if they put their hand a
little before their eye. The reason is, for that the
glaring of the sun or the candle doth weaken the eye ;
whereas the light circumfused is enough for the per-
ception. For we see that an over-light maketh the
eyes dazzle ; insomuch as perpetual looking against
the sun would cause blindness. Again, if men come
out of a great light into a dark room ; and contrari-
wise, if they come out of a dark room into a light
room, they seem to have a mist before their eyes, and
see worse than they shall do after they have stayed a
little while, either in the light 'or in the dark. The
cause is, for that the spirits visual are, upon a sudden
change, disturbed and put out of order ; and till they
be recollected, do not perform their function^ well.
For when they are much dilated by light, they cannot
contract suddenly ; and when they are much con-
tracted by darkness, they cannot dilate suddenly. And
excess of both these, that is, of the dilatation and
contraction of the spirits visual, if it be long, destroy-
eth the eye. For as long looking against the sun or
fire hurteth the eye by dilatation ; so curious painting
in small volumes, and reading of small letters, do
hurt the eye by contraction.

32 Natural History. [Cent. IX.

8712. Ir hath been observed, that in anger the eyes
wax red ; and in blushing, not the eyes, but the ears,
and the parts behind them. The cause is, for that in
anger the spirits ascend and wax eager ; which is most
easily seen in the eyes, because they are translucid;
though withal it maketh both the cheeks and the gills
red ; but in blushing, it is true the spirits ascend
likewise to succour both the eyes and the face, which
are the parts that labour : but then they are repulsed
by the eyes, for that the eyes, in shame, do put back
the spirits that ascend to them, as unwilling to look
abroad : for no man in that passion doth look strongly,
but dejectedly ; and that repulsion from the eyes di-
verteth the spirits and heat more to the ears, and the
parts by them.

873. THE objects of the sight may cause a great
pleasure and delight in the spirits, but no pain of
great offence ; except it be by memory, as hath
been said. The glimpses and beams of diamonds that
strike the eye; Indian feathers, that have glorious co-
lours ; the coming into a fair garden ; the coming
into a fair room richly furnished ; a beautiful person ;
and the like ; do delight and exhilarate the spirits
much. The reason why it holdeth not in the offence
is, for that the sight is the most spiritual of the senses ;
whereby it hath no object gross enough to offend it*
But the cause chiefly is, for that there be no active
objects to offend the eye. For harmonical sounds,
and discordant sounds, are both active and positive :
so are sweet smells and stinks : so are bitter and sweet
in tastes: so are over-hot and over-cold in touch ; but
blackness and darkness are indeed but privatives ; and
therefore have little or no activity. Somewhat they
do contristate, but very little.

Experiment solitary touching the colour of the sea,
or other water.

874. WATER of the sea, or otherwise, looketh
blacker when it is moved, and whiter when it resteth.
The cause is, for that by means of the motion, the
beams of light pass not straight, and therefore must be

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 33

darkened ; whereas, when it resteth, the beams do
pass straight. Besides, splendour hath a degree of
whiteness; especially if there be a little repercussion:
for a looking-glass with the steel behind, looketh
whiter than glass simple. This experiment deserveth
to be driven farther, in trying by what means motion
may hinder sight.

Experiment solitary touching shell-fish.

875. SHELL-FISH have been, by some of the ancients,
compared and sorted with the insecta > but I see no
reason why they should ; for they have male and fe-
male as other fish have : neither are they bred of pu-
trefaction ; especially such as do move. Neverthe-
less it is certain, that oisters, and cockles, and mussels,
which move not, have no discriminate sex, Query, m
what time, and how they are bred ? It seemeth, that
shells of oisters are bred where none were before ;
and it is tried, that the great horse-mussel, with the
fine shell, that breedeth in ponds, hath bred within
thirty years : but then, which is strange, it hath been
tried, that they do not only gape and shut as the
oisters do, but remove from one place to another.

Experiment solitary touching the right side and the left.

876. THE senses are alike strong, both on the right
side and on the left ; but the limbs on the right side are
stronger. The cause may be, for that the brain, which
is the instrument of sense, is alike on both sides ; but
motion, and abilities of moving, are somewhat holpen
from the liver, which lieth on the right side. It may
be also, for that the senses are put in exercise indiffe-
rently on both sides from the time of our birth; but
the limbs are used most on the right side, whereby
custom helpeth ; for we see that some are left-handed ;
which are such as have used the left hand most.

Experiment solitary touching frictions.

877. FRICTIONS make the parts more fleshy and
full ; as we see both in men, and in currying of horses,
etc. The cause is, for that they draw greater quantity

VOL. ii. D

Natural History. [Cent. IX.

of spirits and blood to the parts: and again, because
they draw the aliment more forcibly from within :
and again, because they relax the pores, and so make
better passage for the spirits, blood, and aliment :
lastly, because they dissipate and digest any inutile or
excrementitious moisture which lieth in the flesh ; all
which help assimilation. Frictions also do more fill
and impinguate the body, than exercise. The cause
is, for that in frictions the inward parts are at rest ;
which in exercise are beaten, many times, too much ;
and for the same reason, as we have noted heretofore,
galley-slaves are fat and fleshy, because they stir the
Jimbs more, and the inward parts less.

Experiment solitary touching globes appearing Jlat at

distance.

878. ALL globes afar off appear flat. The cause
is, for that distance, being a secondary object of sight,
is not otherwise discerned, than by more or less light ;
which disparity, when it cannot be discerned, all
seemeth one : as it is, generally, in objects not dis-
tinctly discerned ; for so letters, if they be so far off
as they cannot be discerned, shew but as a duskish
paper : and all engravings and embossings, afar of,
appear plain.

Experiment solitary touching shadows.

879. THE uttermost parts of shadows seem ever to
tremble. The cause is, for that the little motes which
we see in the sun do ever stir, though there be
no wind ; and therefore those moving, in the meeting
of the light and the shadow, from the light to the
shadow, and from the shadow to the light, do shew
the shadow to move, because the medium moveth.

solitary touching the rolling and break i?ig
of the seas.

880. SHALLOW and narrow seas break more than
deep and large. The cause is, tor that the impulsion
being the same in both, where there is greater quan-
tity -of water, and likewise space enough, there the:

Cent. IX.] Natural History.

water rolleth and moveth, both more slowly, and
with a sloper rise and fall : but where there is less
water, and less space, and the w?.ter dasheth more
against the bottom, there it moveth more swiftly, and
more in precipice ; for in the breaking of the waves
there is ever a precipice.

Experiment solitary touching the dulcoration of salt

water.

881. IT hath been observed by the ancients, that
salt water boiled, or boiled and cooled again, is
more potable, than of itself raw: and yet the taste of
salt in distillations by fire riseth not, for the distilled
water will be fresh. The cause may be, for that the
salt part of the water doth partly rise into a kind of
scum on the top, and partly goeth into a sediment in
the bottom ; and so is rather a separation than an eva-
poration. But it is too gross to rise into a vapour ;
and so is a bitter taste likewise ; for simple distilled
waters, of wormwood, and the like, are not bitter.

Experiment solitary touching the return of saltncss in
pits upon the sea-shore.

882. IT hath been set down before, that pits upon
the sea-shore turn into fresh water, by percolation of
the salt through the sand : but it is farther noted, by
some of the ancients, that in some places of Africa,
after a time, the water in such pits will become brack-
ish again. The cause is, for that after a time, the
very sands through which the salt water passeth, be-
come salt ; and so the strainer itself is tinctured with
salt. The remedy therefore is, to dig still new pits,
when the old wax brackish j as if you would change
your strainer.

Experiment solitary touching attraction by similitude
of substance.

883. IT hath been observed by the ancients, that
salt water will dissolve salt put into it, in less time
than fresh water will dissolve it. The cause may be,
for that the salt in the precedent water doth, by simi-

D2

36 Natural History. [Cent. IX.

litude of substance, draw the salt new put in unto it ;
whereby it diffuse th in the liquor more speedily. This
is a noble experiment, if it be true, for it sheweth
means of more quick and easy infusions; and it is like-
wise a good instance of attraction by similitude of sub-
stance. Try it with sugar put into water formerly
sugared, and into other water unsugared.

Experiment solitary touching attraction.

884. Pur sugar into^ wine, part of it above, part
under the wine, and you shall find, that which may
seem strange, that the sugar above the wine will
soften and dissolve sooner than that within the wine.
The cause is, for that the wine entereth that part of
the sugar which is under the wine, by simple infusion
or spreading ; but that part above the wine is likewise
forced by sucking ; for all spongy bodies expel the air
and draw in liquor, if it be contiguous : as we see it
also in sponges put part above the water. It is wor-
thy the inquiry, to see how you may make more ac-
curate infusions, by help of attraction.

Experiment solitary touching heat under earth.

885. WATER in wells is warmer in winter than in
summer ; and so is air in caves. The cayse is, for that
in the hither parts, under the earth, there is a degree
of some heat, as appeareth in sulphureous veins, etc.
which shut close in, as in winter, is the more ; but if
it perspire, as it doth in summer, it is the less.

Experiment solitary touching flying in the air.

886. IT is reported, that amongst the Leiicadians,
in ancient time, upon a superstition they did use to
precipitate a man from a high cliff into the sea; tying
about him with strings, at some distance, many great
fowls ; and fixing unlo his body divers feathers, spread
to break the fall. Certainly many birds of good wing,
as kites, and the like, would bear up a good weight
as they fly ; and spreading of feathers thin and close,
and in great breadth, will likewise bear up a great
weight, being even laid, without tilting upon the

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 37

sides. The farther extension of this experiment for
flying may be thought upon.

Experiment solitary touching the dye of scarlet.

887. THERE is in some places, namely in Cepha-
lonia, a little shrub which they call holly-oak, or
dwarf-oak : upon the leaves thereof there riseth a
tumour like a blister ; which they gather, and rub out
of it a certain red dust, that converteth, after a while,
into worms, which they kill with wine, as is reported,
when they begin to quicken ; with this dust they dye
scarlet.

Experiment solitary touching maleficiating.

888. IN Zant it is very ordinary to make men impo-
tent to accompany with their wives. The like is prac-
tised in Gascony ; where it is called nouer Veguillette.
It is practised always upon the wedding day. And
in Zant the mothers themselves do it, by way of pre-
vention -, because thereby they hinder other charms,
and can undo their own. It is a thing the civil law
taketh knowledge of; and therefore is of no light
regard.

Experiment solitary touching the rise of water by means

of flame.

889. IT is a common experiment, but the cause is
mistaken. Take a pot, pr better a glass, because
therein you may see the motion, and set a candle
lighted in the bottom of a bason of water, and turn
the mouth of the pot or glass over the candle, and it
will make the water rise. They ascribe it to the draw-
ing of heat; which is not true: for it appeareth plainly
to be but a motion of nexe, which they call ne de-
tur vacuum i and it proceedeth thus. The flame of
the candle, as soon as it is covered, being suffocated
by the close air, lesseneth by little and little ; during
which time there is some little ascent of wrater, but not
much : for the flame occupying less and less room, as
it lesseneth, the water succeecleth. But upon the in-
stant ot the candle's going out, there is a sudden rise
ot a great deal of water ; for that the body of the

38 Natural History. [Cent. IX.

flame filleth no more place, and so the air and the
water succeed. It worketll the same effect, if instead
of water you put flour or sand into the bason : which
sheweth, that it is not the flame's drawing the liquor
as nourishment, as it is supposed ; for all bodies are
alike unto it, as it is ever in motion of nexe ; insomuch
as I have seen the glass, being held by the hand, hath
lifted up the bason and all ; the motion of nexe did
so clasp the bottom of the bason. That experiment,
when the bason was lifted up, was made with oil, and
not with water: nevertheless this is true, that at the
very first setting of the mouth of the glass upon the
bottom of the bason, it dravveth up the water a little,
and then standeth at a stay, almost till the candle's
going out, as was said. This may shew some attrac-
tion at first : but of this we will speak more, when we
handle attractions by heat.

Experiments in consort touching the influences of the moon.

OF the power of the celestial bodies, and what
more secret influences they have, besides the two ma-
nifest influences of heat and light, we shall speak
when we handle experiments touching the celestial
bodies: mean while we will give some directions for
more certain trials of the virtue and influences of the
moon, which is our nearest neighbour.

The influences of the moon, most observed, are
four; the drawing forth of heat ; the inducing of pu-
trefaction ; the increase of moisture ; the exciting of
the motions of spirits.

890. FOR the drawing forth of heat, we have for-
merly prescribed to take water warm, and to set part
of it against the moon-beans, and part of it with a
screen between ; and to see whether that which stand-
eth exposed to the beams will not cool sooner. But
because this is but a small interposition, though in
the sun we see a small shade doth much, it were good
to try it when the moon shineth, and when the mooii
shineth not at all ; and with water warm in a glass
bottle, as well as in a dish ; and with cinders 5 and
with iron red-hot, etc.

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 39

891. FOR the inducing of putrefaction, It were good
to try it with flesh or fish exposed to the moon-beams;
and again exposed to the air when the moon shineth
not, for the like time ; to see whether will corrupt
sooner : and - try it also with a capon, or some other
fowl, laid abroad, to see whether it will mortify and
become tender sooner ; try it also with dead flies, or
dead worms, having a little water cast upon them,
to see whether will putrify sooner. Try it also with
an apple or orange, having holes made in their tops,
to see whether will rot or mould sooner. Try it also
with Holland cheese, having wine put into it, whe-
ther will breed mites sooner or greater.

892. FOR the increase of moisture, the opinion re-
ceived is; that seeds will grow soonest; and hair, and
nails, and hedges, and herbs cut, etc. will grow
soonest, if they be set or cut in the increase of the
moon. Also that brains in rabbits, woodcocks, calves,
etc. are fullest in the full of the moon : and so of mar-
row in the bones : and so of oisters and cockles, which
of all the rest are the easiest tried if you have them
in pits.

893. TAKE some seeds or roots, as onions, etc. and
set some of them immediately after the change; and
others of the same kind immediately after the full :
let them be as like as can be ; the earth also the same
as near as may be ; and therefore best in pots. Let
the pots also stand where no rain or sun may come to
them, lest the difference of the weather confound the
experiment : and then see in what time the seeds set
in the increase of the moon come to a certain height ;
and how they differ from those that are set in the de-
crease of the moon.

894. IT is like, that the brain of man waxeth
moister and fuller upon the full of the moon : and
therefore it were good for those that have moist brains,
and are great drinkers, to take fume of lignum aloes,
rosemary, frankincense, etc. about the full of the
moon. It is like also, that the humours in mens
bodies increase and decrease as the moon doth : and
therefore it were good to purge some day or two after

40 Natural History. [Cent. IX.

the full ; for that then the humours will not replenish
so soon again.

895. As for the exciting of the motion of the
spirits, you must note that the growth of hedges,
herbs, hair, etc. is caused from the moon, by exciting
of the spirits, as well as by increase of the moisture.
But for spirits in particular, the great instance is in
lunacies.

896. THERE may be other secret effects of the in-
fluence of the moon, which are not yet brought into
observation. It may be, that if it so fall out that the
wind be north, or north-east, in the full of the moon,
it increaseth cold ; and if south, or south-west, it dis-
poseth the air for a good while to warmth and rain 5
which should be observed.

897. IT may be, that children, and young cattle,
that are brought forth in the full of the moon, are
stronger and larger than those that are brought forth
in the wane ; and those also which are begotten in
the full of the moon : so that it might be good hus-
bandry to put rams and bulls to their females, some-
what before the full of the moon. It may be also, that
the eggs laid in the full of the moon breed the better
bird : and a number of the like effects which may
be brought into observation. Query also, whether
great thunders and earthquakes be not most in the
full of the moon.

Experiment solitary touching vinegar.

898. THE turning of wine to vinegar is a kind of
putrefaction : and in making of vinegar, they use to
set vessels of wine over-against the noon-sun; which
calleth out the more oily spirits, and leaveth the
liquor more sour and hard. We see also, that burnt
wine is more hard and astringent than wine unburnt.
It is said, that cider in navigations under the line
ripeneth, when wine or beer soureth. It were good
to set a rundlet of verjuice over-against the sun in
summer, as they do vinegar, to see whether it will
ripen and sweeten.

Cent. IX.] Natural History. 41

Experiment solitary touching creatures that sleep all

winter,

899. THERE be divers creatures that sleep all win-
ter, as the bear, the hedge-hog, the bat, the bee, etc,
These all wax fat when they sleep, andegestnot. The
cause of their fattening during their sleeping time,
may be the want of assimilating ; for whatsoever assi-
milateth not to flesh turneth either to sweat or fat.
These creatures, for part of their sleeping time, have
been observed not to stir at all ; and for the other
part, to stir, but not to remove. And they get warm
and close places to sleep in. When the Flemings
wintered in Nova Zembla, the bears about the middle
of November went to sleep ; and then the foxes began
to come forth, which durst not before. It is noted by
some of the ancients, that the she-bear breedeth, and
Jyeth in with her young, during that time of rest :
and that a bear big with young hath seldom been
seen.

Experiment solitary touching the generating of creatures
by copulation, and by putrefaction.

900. SOME living creatures are procreated by co-
pulation between male and female : some by putre-
faction : and of those which come by putrefaction,
many do, nevertheless, afterwards procreate by copu-
lation. For the cause of both generations: first, it is
most certain, that the cause of all vivification is a
gentle and proportionable heat, working upon a glu-
tinous and yielding substance : for the heat doth
bring forth spirit in that substance : and the substance
being glutinous produceth two effects ; the one, that
the spirit is detained, and cannot break, forth : the
other, that the matter being gentle and yielding, is
driven forwards by the motion of the spirits, after
some swelling, into shape and member's. Therefore
all sperm, all menstruous substance, all matter whereof
creatures are produced by putrefaction, have ever-
more a closeness, lentor, and sequacity. It seemeth
therefore, that the generation by sperm only, and by
putrefaction, have two different causes. The first is,

42 Natural History*. [Cent. IX.

for that creatures which have a definite and exact
shape, as those have which are procreated by copula-
tion, cannot be produced by a weak and casual heat;
nor out of matter which is not exactly prepared ac-
cording to the species. The second is, for that there
is a greater time required for maturation of perfect
creatures ; for if the time required in vivification be
of any length, then the spirit will exhale before the
Creature be mature ; except it be inclosed in a place
where it may have continuance of the heat, access of
some nourishment to maintain it, and closeness that
may keep it from exhaling : and such places are the
wombs and matrices of the females. And therefore
all creatures made of putrefaction, are of more un-
certain shape ; and are made in shorter time ; and
need not so perfect an inclosure, though some close-
ness be commonly required. As for the heathen opi-
nion, which was, that upon great mutations of the
world, perfect creatures were first engendered of con-
cretion : as well as frogs, and worms, and flies, and
such like, are now ; we know it to be vain : but if any
such thing should be admitted, discoursing according
to sense, it cannot be, except you admit a chaos first,
and commixture of heaven and earth. For the frame
of the world, once in order^ cannot affect it by any
excess or casualty.

NATURAL HISTORY.

CENTURY X.

Experiments in consort touching the transmission and
influx of immateriate virtues, and the force of ima-
gination.

JL HE philosophy of Pythagoras, which was full of
superstition, did first plant a monstrous imagination,
which afterwards was, by the school of Plato and
others, watered and nourished. It was, that the world
was one entire perfect living creature ; insomuch as
Apolloniusof Tyana, a Pythagorean prophet, affirmed,
that the ebbing and flowing of the sea was the
respiration of the world, drawing in water as breath,
and putting it forth again. They went on, and in-
ferred, that if the world were a living creature, it had
a soul and spirit ; which also they held, calling It
spiritus mundiy the spirit or soul of the world : by
which they did not intend God, for they did admit of
a Deity besides, but only the soul or essential form of
the universe. This foundation being laid, they might
build upon it what they would ; for in a living crea-
ture, though never so great, as for example, in a great
whale, the sense and the affects of any one part of the
body instantly make a transcursion throughout the
whole body: so that by this they did insinuate, that
no distance of place, nor want of indisposition of
matter, could hinder magical operations ; but that,
for example, we might here in Europe have sense and
feeling of that which was done in China : and like-
wise we might work any effect without and against
matter ; and this not holpen by the co-operation of
angels or spirits, but only by the unity and harmony
of nature. There \vere some also that staid not here ;
but went farther, and held, that if the spirit of man,

44 Natural History. [Cent. X.

whom they call the microcosm, do give a fit touch
to the spirit of the world, by strong imaginations and
beliefs, it might command nature ; for Paracelsus, and
some darksome authors of magic, do ascribe to ima-
gination exalted the power of miracle-working faith.
With these vast and bottomless follies men have been
in part entertained.

But we, that hold firm to the works of God, and
to the sense, which is God's lamp, lucerna Dei sjri-
racutum hominis, will inquire with all sobriety and se-
verity, whether there be to be found in the footsteps of
nature, any such transmission and influx of imma-
teriate virtues ; and what the force of imagination is ;
either upon the body imaginant, or upon another
body: wherein it will be like that labour of Her-
cules, in purging the stable of Augeas, to separate
from superstitious and magical arts and observations,
any thing that is clean and pure natural ; and not to
be either contemned or condemned. And although
wre shall have occasion to speak of this in more places
than one, yet we will now make some entrance
thereinto.

in consort, monitory, touching transmission
of spirits y and the force of imagination.

901. MEN are to be admonished that they do not
withdraw credit. from the operations by transmission
of spirits, and force of imagination, because the
effects iail sometimes. For as in infection, and con-
tagion from body to body, as the plague, and the
like, it is most certain that the infection is received,
many times,, by the body passive, but yet is, by the
strength and good disposition thereof, repulsed and
wrought out, before it be formed into a disease; so
much more in impressions from mind to mind, or from
spirit to spirit,- the impression taketh, but is encoun-
tered and overcome by the mind and spirit which is
passive, before it work any manifest effect. And
therefore they work most upon weak minds and spi-
rits; as those of women, sick persons, superstitious
and ffjirful persons, children, and young creatures:
Nescio quis tcncros oculus mihi fascinat agnos :

Cent. X.] Natural History. 45

The poet speaketh not of sheep, but of lambs. As
for the weakness of the power of them upon kings
and magistrates, it may be aseribed, besides the
main, which is the protection of God over those that
execute his place, to the weakness of the imagination
of the imaginant : for it is hard for a witch or a sor-
cerer to put on a belief that they can hurt such per-
sons.

902. MEN are to be admonished, on the other
side, that they do not easily give place and credit to
these operations, because they succeed many times ; for
the cause of this success is oft to be truly ascribed unto
the force of affection and imagination upon the body
agent; and then by a secondary means it may work
upon a diverse body : as for example, if a man carry
a planet's seal, or a ring, or some part of a beast, be-
lieving strongly that it will help him to obtain his
Jove; or to keep him from some danger of hurt in
fight; or to prevail in a suit, etc. it may make him
more active and industrious: and again, more confi-
dent and persisting than otherwise he would be»
Now the great effects that may come of industry and
perseverance, especially in civil business, who know-
eth not ? For we see audacity 'doth almost bind and
mate the weaker sort of minds ; and the state of human
actions is so variable, that to try things oft, and never
to give over, doth wonders : therefore it were a mere
fallacy and mistaking to ascribe that to the force of
imagination upon another body, which is but the
force of imagination upon the proper body; for there
is no doubt, but that imagination and vehement affec-
tion work greatly upon the body of the imaginant ; as
we shall shew in due place.

903. MEN are to be admonished, that as they are
not to mistake the causes of these operations; so
much less they are to mistake the fact or effect ; and
rashly to take that fordone which is not done. And
therefore, as divers wise judges have prescribed and
cautioned, men may not too. rashly believe the confes-
sions of witches, nor yet the evidence against them.
For the witches themselves are imaginative, and be-

46 Natural History. [Cent. X.

lieve oft-times they do that which they do not : and
people are credulous in that point, and ready to impute
accidents and natural operations to witchcraft. It is
worthy the observing, that both in ancient and late
times, as in the Thessalian witches, and the meetings
of witches that have been recorded by so many late
confessions, the great wonders which they tell, of
carrying in the air, transforming themselves into other
bodies, etc. are still reported to be wrought, not by
incantations or ceremonies, but by ointments, and
anointing themselves all over. This may justly move
a man to think, that these fables are the effects of
imagination : for it is certain, that ointments do all,
if they be laid on anything thick, by stopping of the
pores, shutting in the vapours, and sending them to
the head extremely. And for the particular ingre-
dients of those magical ointments, it is like they are
opiate and soporiferous. For anointing of the fore-
head, neck, feet, back-bone, we know, is used for
procuring dead sleeps : and if any man say that this
effect would be better done by inward potions; an-
swer may be made, that the medicines which go to
the ointments are so strong, that if they were used
inwards, they would kill those that use them : and
therefore they work potently, though outwards.

We will divide the several kinds of the operations
by transmission of spirits and imagination, which will
give no small light to the experiments that follow.
All operations by transmission of spirits and imagina-
tion have this ; that they work at distance, and not at
touch; and they are these being distinguished.

904. THE first is the transmission or emission of the
thinner and more airy parts of bodies; as in odours
and infections; and this is, of all the rest, the most
corporeal. But you must remember withal, that there
be a number of those emissions, both wholesome and
unwholesome, that give no smell at all: for the
plague, many times when it is taken, giveth no scent
at all : and there be many good and healthful airs
that do appear by habitation and other proofs, that
differ not in smell from other airs. And under this

Cent. X.] Natural History. 47

head you may place all imbibitions of air, where the
substance is material, odour-like; whereof some ne-
vertheless are strange, and very suddenly diffused ; as
the alteration which the air receiveth in Egypt, al-
most immediately, upon the rising of the river of Nilus,
whereof we have spoken.

905. THE second is the transmission or emission of
those things that we call spiritual species; as visiblcs
and sounds: the one whereof we have handled, and
the other we shall handle in due place. These move
swiftly, and at great distance; but then they re-
quire a medium well disposed, and their transmission
is easily stopped.

906. THE third is the emissions, which cause at-
traction of certain bodies at distance; wherein though
the loadstone be commonly placed in the first rank,
yet we think good to except it, and refer it to an-
other head: but the drawing of amber and jet, and
other electric bodies, and the attraction in gold of
the spirit of quicksilver at distance ; and the attrac-
tion of heat at distance ; and that of fire to naphtha ;
and that of some herbs to water, though at distance ;
and divers others ; we shall handle, but yet not under
this present title, but under the title of attraction in
general.

907. THE fourth is the emission of spirits, and im
materiate powers and virtues, in those things which
work by the universal configuration and sympathy of
the world ; not by forms or celestial influxes, as is
vainly taught and received, but by the primitive na-
ture of matter, and the seeds of things. Of this kind
is, as we yet suppose, the working of the loadstone,
which is by consent with the globe of the earth : of
this kind is the motion of gravity, which is by con-
sent of dense bodies with the globe of the earth : of
this kind is some disposition of bodies to rotation,
and particularly from east to west : of which kind we
conceive the main float and refloat of the sea is,
which is by consent of the universe, as part of the di-
urnal motion. These immateriate virtues have this
property differing from others; that the diversity of

48 ^Natural History. [Cent. X.

the medium hindereth them not : but they pass
through all mediums, yet at determinate distances.
And of these we shall speak, as they are incident to
several titles.

90S. THE fifth is the emission of spirits ; and this
is the principal in our intention to handle now in this
place ; namely, the operation of the spirits of the
mind of man upon other spirits : and this is of a double
nature ; the operations of the affections, if they be ve-
hement; and the operation of the imagination, if it
be strong. But these two are so coupled, as we shall
handle them together; for when an envious or amo-
rous aspect doth infect the spirits of another, there is
joined both affection and imagination.

909. THE sixth is, the influxes of the heavenly bo*
dies, besides those two manifest ones, of heat and
light. But these we will handle where we handle the
celestial bodies and motions.

910. THE seventh is the operations of sympathy*
which the writers of natural magic have brought into
an art or precept : and it is this ; that if you desire
to super-induce any virtue or disposition upon a per-
son, you should take the living creature, in which
that virtue is most eminent, and in perfection ; of that
creature you must take the parts wherein that virtue
chiefly is collocate : again, you must take those parts
in the time and act when that virtue is most in exer-
cise ; and then you must apply it to that part of man
wherein that virtue chiefly consisteth. As if you would
super-induce courage and fortitude, take a lion or a
cock ; and take the heart, tooth, or paw of the lion ;
or the heart or spur of the cock : take those parts
immediately after the lion or the cock have been in
fight; and let them be worn upon a man's heart or
wrist. Of these and such like sympathies, we shall
speak under this present title.

911. THE eighth and last is, an emission of immate-
riate virtues ; such as we are a little doubtful to pro-
pound ; it is so prodigious: but that it is so constantly
avouched by many : and we have set it down as a Jaw
to ourselres, to examine things to the bottom j and

Cent. X.] Natural History. 49

not to receive upon credit, or reject upon improba-
bilities, until there hath passed a due examination.
This is the sympathy of individuals ; for as there is
a sympathy of species, so it may be there is a sympa-
thy of individuals : that is, that in things, or the part»
of things that have been once contiguous or entire,
there should remain a transmission' of virtue from the
one to the other : as between the weapon and the
wound. Whereupon is blazed abroad the operation
of unguenium fell; and so of a piece of lard, or stick
of alder, etc* that if part of it be consumed or putre-
fied, it will work upon the other part severed. Now
we will pursue the instances themselves.

Experiments in consort touching emission of spirits in
vapour or exhalation,, odour-like.

912. THE plague is many times taken without ma-
nifest sense, as hath been said. And they report, that
where it is found, it hath a scent of the smell of a
mellow apple : and, as some say, of May-flowers :
and it is also received, that smells of flowers that are
mellow and luscious, are ill for the plague $ as white
lilies, cowslips, and hyacinths.

913. THE plague is not easily received by such as
continually are about them that have the plague ; as
keepers of the sick, and physicians; nor again by such
as take antidotes, either inward, as mithridate, juniper
berries, rue, leaf and seed, etc. or outward, as ange-
lica, zedoary, and the like, in the mouth ; tar, gal-
banum, and the like, in perfume ; nor again by old
people, and such as are of a dry and cold complexion.
On the other side, the plague taketh soonest hold of
those that come out of a fresh air, and of those that
are fasting, and of children ; and it is likewise noted
to go in a blood, more than to a stranger.

914. THE most pernicious infection, next to the
plague, is the smell of the jail, when prisoners have
been long, and close, and nastily kept ; whereof we
have had in our time experience twice or thrice ;
when both the judges that sat upon the jail, and num-
bers of those that attended the business or were pre-

VOL. II. E

50 Natural History. [Cent. X.

sent, sickened upon it, and died. Therefore it were
good wisdom, that in such cases the jail were aired
before they be brought forth.

915. Our of question, if such foul smells be made
by art, and by the hand, they consist chiefly of man's
flesh or sweat putrified ; for they are not those stinks
which the nostrils straight abhor and expel, that are most
pernicious; but such airs as have some similitude with
man's body ; and so insinuate themselves, and betray
the spirits. There may be great danger in using such
compositions, in great meetings of people within
houses ; as in churches, at arraignments, at plays and
solemnities, and the like : for poisoning of air is no
less dangerous than poisoning of water, which hath
been used by the Turks in the wars, and was used by
Emmanuel Comnenus towards the Christians, when
they passed through his country to the Holy Land.
And these impoisonments of air are the more dan-
gerous in meetings of people, because the much
breath of people doth further the reception of the in-
fection ; and therefore, where any such thing is feared,
it were good those public places were perfumed, be-
fore the assemblies.

916. THE impoisonment of particular persons by
odours, hath been reported to be in perfumed gloves,
or the like : and it is like,, they mingle the poison
that is deadly, with some smells that are sweet, which
also maketh it the sooner received. Plagues also have
been raised by anointings of the chinks of doors, and
the like j. not so much by the touch,, as for that it is
common for men, when they find anything wet upon
their fingers, to put them to their nose ; which men
therefore should take heed how they do. The best is,
that these compositions of infectious airs cannot be
made without danger of death to them that make
them. But then again, they may have some antidotes
to save themselves ; so that men ought not to be se-
cure of it.

917. THERE have been in clivers countries great
plagues, by the putrefaction of great swarms of grass^
hoppers and locusts, when they have been dead and
cast upon heaps.

Cent. X.] Natural History. 5i

918. IT happeneth often in mines, that there are
damps which kill, either by suffocation, or by the poi-
sonous natuie of the mineral: and those that deal
much in refining, or other works about metals and
minerals, have their brains hurt and stupified by the
metalline vapours. Amongst which it is noted, that
the spirits of quicksilver either fly to the skull, teeth,
or bones ; insomuch as gilders use to have a piece of
gold in their mouth, to draw the spirits of the quick*
silver ; which gold afterwards they find to be whit-
ened. There are also certain lakes and pits, such as
that of Avernus, that poison birds, as is said, which
fly over them, or men that stay too long about them*

919. THE vapour of char- coal, or sea-coal, in a close
room, hath killed many ; and it is the more danger-
ous, because it cometh without any ill smell, but steal-
eth on by little and little, inducing only a faintness,
without any manifest strangling. When the Dutchmen
wintered at Nova Zembla, and that they could gather
no more sticks, they fell to make fire of some sea-coal
they had, wherewith, at first, they were much refresh-
ed ; but a little after they had sat about the fire, there
grew a general silence and lothness to speak amongst
them ; and immediately after, one of the weakest of
the company fell down in a swoon ; whereupon they
doubting what it was, opened their door to let in air,
and so saved themselves. The effect, no doubt, is
wrought by the inspissation of air; and so of the breath
and spirits. The like ensueth in rooms new7ly plais-
tered, if a fire be made in them ; whereof no less 3.
man than the emperor Jovinianus died.

920. VIDE the experiment 803, touching the infec-
tious nature of the air, upon the first showers, after a
long drought.

921. IT hath come to pass, that some apothecaries,
upon stamping of colloquintida, have been put into a
great scouring by the vapour only.

922. IT hath been a practice to burn a pepper they
call Guiney -pepper, which hath such a strong spirit,
that it provoketh a continual sneezing in those that
are in the room.

E 2

52 Natural Hitttory. [Cent. X.

923. Iris an ancient tradition, that blear-eyes in-
fect sound eyes; and that a menstruous woman, look-
ing upon a glasss, doth rust it : nay, they have an opi-
nion which seemeth fabulous; that menstruous wo-
men going over a field or garden, do corn and herbs
good by killing the worms.

924. THE tradition is no less ancient, that the basi-
lisk killeth by aspect ; and that the wolf, if he see a
man first, by aspect striketh a man hoarse.

925. PERFUMES convenient do dry and strengthen
the brain, and stay rheums and defluxions, as we find
in fume of rosemary dried, and lignum aloes ; and ca-
lamus taken at the mouth and nostrils : and no doubt
there be other perfumes that do moisten and refresh,
and are fit to be used in burning agues, consumptions-,
and too much wrakefulness ; such as are rose-water,
vinegar, lemon-peels, violets, the leaves of vines
sprinkled with a little rose-water, etc.

926. THEY do use in sudden faintings and swoon-
ings to put a handkerchief with rose-water or a little
vinegar to the nose ; which gathereth together again
the spirits, which are upon point to resolve and fall
away.

927. TOBACCO comforteth the spirits, and discharg-
eth weariness, which it worketh partly by opening,
but chiefly by the opiate virtue, which condenseth
the spirits. It were good therefore to try the taking
of fumes by pipes, as they do in tobacco, of other
things; as well to dry and comfort, as for other inten-
tions. I wish trial be made of the drying furne of rose-
mary, and Lignum aloes, before-mentioned, in pipe;
and so of nutmeg, and folium indum, etc.

928. THE following of the plough hath been ap-
proved for refreshing the spirits and procuring ap-
petite ; but to do it in the ploughing for wheat or
rye, is not so good, because the earth has spent her
sweet breath in vegetables put forth in summer. It
is better therefore to do it when you sow barley. But
because ploughing is tied to seasons, it is best to take
the air of the earth new turned up, by digging with
the spade, or standing by him that diggeth. Gentle-

Cent. X,] Natural History. 5 3

women may do themselves much good by kneeling
upon a cushion, and weeding. And these things you
may practise in the best seasons; which is ever the
early spring, before the earth putteth forth the vege-
tables, and in the sweetest earth you can choose. It
should be done also when the dew is a little off the
ground, lest the vapour be too moist. I knew a great
man that lived long, who had a clean clod of earth
brought to him every morning as he sat in his bed ;
and he would hold his head over it a good pretty while.
I commend also, sometimes, in digging of new earth,
to pour in some Malmsey or Greek wine, that the
vapour of the earth and wine together may comfdrt
the spirits the more ; provided always it be not taken /
for a heathen sacrifice, or libation to the earth.

929. THEY have in physic use of pomanders, and
knots of powders, for drying of rheums, comforting
of the heart, provoking of sleep, etc. For though
those things be not so strong as perfumes, yet you may
have them continually in your hand ; whereas per-
fumes you can take but at times : and besides, there
be divers things that breathe better of themselves, than
when they come to the fire ; as ?u'gella romana, the
seed of mdanthiiim, amomum, etc.

930. THERE be two things which, inwardly used,
do cool and condense the spirits ; and I wish the same
to be tried outwardly in vapours. The one is nitre,
which I would have dissolved in Malmsey, or Greek
wine, and so the smell of the wine taken; or if you
would have it more forcible, pour of it upon a fire-
pan, well heated, as they do rose-water and vinegar.
The other is the distilled water of wild poppy, which
I wish to be mingled, at half, with rose-water, and
so taken with some mixture of a few cloves in a per-
furning-pan. The like should be done with the dis-
tilled water of saffron flowers.

931. SMELLS of musk, and amber, and civet, are
thought to further venerous appetite; which they may
do by the refreshing and calling forth of the spirits,

932. INCEKSE and niclorous .smells, such as were of
sacrifices, were thought to intoxicate the brain, and

54 Natural History. [Cent. X.

to dispose men to devotion : which they may do by a
kind of sadness, and contestation of the spirits; and
partly also by heating and exalting them. We see
that amongst the Jews the principal perfume of the
sanctuary was forbidden all common uses.

933. THERE be some perfumes prescribed by the
writers of natural magic, which procure pleasant
dreams : and some others, as they say, that pro-
cure prophetical dreams 3 as the seeds of flax, flea-
wort, etc.

934. IT is certain, that odours do, in a small de-
gree, nourish ; especially the odour of wine : and we
see men an hungered do love to smell hot bread. It
is related that Democritus, when he lay a dying,
heard a woman in the house complain, that she should
be kept from being at a feast and solemnity, which
she much desired to see, because there would be a
corpse in the house ; whereupon he caused loaves of
new bread to be sent fur, and opened them, and
poured a little wine into them ; and so kept himself
alive with the odour of them, till the feast was past.
I knew a gentleman that would fast, sometimes three
or four, yea five days, without meat, bread, or drink;
but the same man used to have continually a great
wisp of herbs that he smelled on : and amongst those
herbs, some esculent herbs of strong scent ; as onions,
garlic, leeks, and the like.

935. THEY do use, for the accident of the mother,
to burn feathers and other things of ill odour : and by
those ill smells the rising of the mother is put down.

936. THERE be airs which the physicians advise
their patients to remove unto in consumptions or upon
recovery of long sicknesses; which, commonly, are
plain champains, but grasing, and not overgrown
with heath or the like ; or else timber-shades, as in
forests, arid the like. It i^ noted also, that groves of
bays do forbid pestilent airs; which was accounted a
great cause of the wholesome air of Antiochia. There
be also some soils that put forth odorate herbs of
themselves; as wild thyme, wild marjoram, penny-
royal, camomile ; and in which the brier roses smell

Cent. X.] Natural History.

almost like musk-roses ; which, no dotibt, are signs
that do discover an excellent air.

937. IT were good for men to think of having
healthful air in their houses; which will never be if
the rooms be low-roofed, or fall of windows and
doors ; for the one maketh the air close, and not fresh,
and the other maketh it exceeding unequal ; which
is a great enemy to health. The windows also should
not be high up 'to the roof, which rs in use for beauty
and magnificence, but low. Also stone-walls are
not wholesome ; but timber is more wholesome ; and
especially brick: nay, it hath been used by some with
great success to make their walls thick $ and to put
a lay of chalk between the bricks, to take away all
dampishness.

Experiment solitary touching the emissions of spiritual
species ivhich affect the senses.

938. THESE emissions, as we said before, are han-
dled, and ought to be handled by themselves under
their proper titles: that is, visiblesand audibles, each
apart : in this place it shall suffice to give some ge-
neral observations common to both. First, they seem
to be incorporeal. Secondly, they work swiftly.
Thirdly, they work at large distances. Fourthly, in
curious varieties. Fifthly, they are not effective of
any thing ; nor leave no work behind them ; but are
energies merely : for their working upon mirrours
and places of echo doth not alter any thing in those
bodies ; but it is the same action with the original,
only repercussed. And as for the shaking of win-
dows, or rarifying the air by great noises; and the
heat caused by burning-glasses ; they are rather con-
comitants of the audible and visible species, than the
effects of them. Sixthly, they seem to be of so tender
and weak a nature, as they effect only such a rare
and attenuate substance, as is the spirit of living crea*
tures.

56 Natural History. [Cent.X.

Experiments in consort touching the emission of miniate-*
riate virtues from the minds and spirits of men, either
by affections, or by imaginations, or by other im-
pressions.

939. IT is mentioned in some stones, that where
children have been exposed, or taken away young
from their parents ; and that afterwards they have
approached to their parents presence, the parents,
though they have not known them, have had a secret
joy or other alteration thereupon.

910. THERE was an Egyptian soothsayer, that
made Antonius believe, that his genius, which other-?
wise was brave and confident, was, in the presence of
Octavianus Caasar, poor and cowardly : and therefore
he advised him, to absent himself as much as he
could, and remove far from him. This soothsayer
was thought to be suborned by Cleopatra, to make
him live in Egypt, and other remote places from
Rome. Howsoever the conceit of a predominant or
mastering spirit of one man over another, is ancient,
and received still, even in vulgar opinion.

91- 1 . THERE are conceits, that some men that are of an
ill and melancholy nature, do incline the company in-
to which they come to be sad and ill disposed; and
contrariwise, that others that are of ajovial nature, do
dispose the company to be merry and cheerful. And
again, that some men are lucky to be kept company
with and employed; and others unlucky. Certainly,
it is agreeable to reason, that there are at the least
some light effluxions from spirit to spirit, when men,
are in presence one with another, as well as from
body to body.

91-2. IT hath been observed, that old men who have
]oved young company, and been conversant continu-
ally with them, have been of long life , their spirits, as
it seemeth, being recreated by such com pan)'. Such
were the ancient sophists and rhetoricians; which
ever had young auditors and disciples; as Gorgias,
Protagoras, Isocrates, etc. who lived till they were an
hundred years old. And so like\vise did many of
the grammarians and school-masters; such as was
Orbilius, etc.

Cent. X.] Natural History. 57

943. AUDACITY and confidence doth, in civil bu--
siness, so great effects, as a man may reasonably
doubt, that besides the very daring and earnestness,
and persisting, and importunity, there should be some
secret binding, and stooping of other men's spirits to
such persons.

944. THE affections, no doubt, do make the spirits
more powerful and active ; and especially those affec-
tions which draw the spirits into the eyes : which are
two ; love, and envy, which is called oculus mains.
As for love, the Platonists, some of them, go so far as
to hold that the spirit of the lover doth pass into the
spirits of the person loved ; which causeth the desire of
return into the body whence it was emitted : whereup-
on followeth that appetite of contact and conjunction
which is in lovers. And this is observed likewise, that
the aspects which procure love, are not gazings, but
sudden glances and dartings of the eye. As for envv,
that emitteth some malign and poisonous spirit, which
taketh hold of the spirit of another 5 and is likewise of
greatest force when thejcast of the eye is oblique. It
hath been noted also, that it is most dangerous when
an envious eye is cast upon persons in glory, in tri-
umph, and joy. The reason whereof is, for that at
such tirnes the spirits come forth most into the outward
parts, and so meet the percussion of the envious eye
more at hand: and therefore it hath been noted, that
after great triumphs, men have been ill-disposed for
some days following. We see the opinion of fas-
cination is ancient, for both effects; of procuring love;
and sickness caused by envy: and fascination is ever
by the eye. But yet if there be any such infection
from spirit to spirit, there is no doubt but that it work-
eth by presence, and not by the eye alone ; yet most
forcibly by the eye.

945. FEAR and shame are likewise infective; for
we see that the starting of one will make another ready
to start: and when one man is out of countenance
in a company, others do likewise blush in his behalf.

Now we will speak of the force of imagination
upon other bodies 3 and of the means to exalt and

58 Natural History. [Cent X.

strengthen it. Imagination in this place I under-
stand to be, the representation of an individual
thought. Imagination is of three kinds: the first
joined with belief of that which is to come : the second
joined with memory of that which is past; and the
third is of things present, or as if they were present ;
for I comprehend in thic, imaginations feigned, and at
pleasure ; as if one should imagine such a man to be
in the vestments of a pope ; or to have wings. I single
out, for this time, that which is with faith or belief of
that which is to come. The inquisition of this sub-
ject in our way, which is by induction, is wonderful
hard: for the things that are reported are full of fa-
bles; and new experiments can hardly be made, but
with extreme caution ; for the reason which we will
hereafter declare.

THE power of imagination is of three kinds ; the
first upon the body of the imaginant, including like-
wise the child in the mother's womb ; the second is,
the power of it upon dead bodies, as plants, wood,
stone, metal, etc, the third is, the power of it upon the
spirits of men and living creatures: and with this last
\ve will only meddle.

THE problem therefore is, whether a man coni-
stantly and strongly believing that such a thing shall
be, as that such an one will love him ; or that such an
one will grant him his request ; or that such an one
shall recover a sickness ; or the like ; it doth help any
thing to the effecting of the thing itself. And here
again we must warily distinguish ; for it is not meant, as
hath been partly said before, that it should help by
making a man more stout, or more industrious, in
which kind a constant belief doth much, but merely
by a secret operation, or binding, or changing the
spirit of another : and in this it is hard, as we began to
say, to make any new experiment ; for I cannot com-r
mand myself to believe what I will, and so no trial
can be made. Nay it is worse ; for whatsoever a man
imagineth doubt ingly, or with fear, must needs do
hurt, if imagination have any power at all; fora man
representeth that oftener that he feareth, than the con-

Cent. X.] Natural History.

THE help therefore is, for a man to work by an-
other, in whom he may create belief, and not by him-
self; until himself have found by experience, that
imagination doth prevail ; for then experience work-
eth in himself belief; if the belief that such a thing
shall be, be joined with a belief that his imagination
may procure it.

946. FOR example; I related one time to a man
that was curious and vain enough in these things, that
I saw a kind of juggler, that had a pair of cards, and
would tell a man what card he thought. This pre-
tended learned man told me, it was a mistaking in
me ; ** for, said he, it was not the knowledge of the
" man's thought, for that is proper to God, but it
** was the inforcing of a thought upon him, and
*c binding his imagination by a stronger, that he could
" think no other card." And thereupon he asked
me a question or two, which I thought he did but
cunningly, knowing before what used to be the feats
of the juggler. ff Sir, said he, do you remember
f< whether he told the card the man thought himself,
*c or bade another to tell it?" I answered, as was
true, that he bade another tell it. Whereunto he
said, " So I thought: for said he, himself could not
fs have put on so strong an imagination ; but by tel-
€f ling the other the card, who believed that the juggler
" was some strange man, and could do strange things,
cc that other man caught a strong imagination." I
hearkened unto him, thinking for a vanity he spoke
prettily. Then he asked me another question : saith
he, tf Do you remember, whether he bade the
" man think the card first, and afterwards told the
'• other man in his ear what he should think ; or else
(s that he did whisper first in the man's ear that
" should tell the card, telling that such a man should
" think such a card, and after bade the man think a
" card?" I told him as was true; that he did first
whisper the man in the ear, that such a man should
think such a card: upon this the learned man did
much exult and please himself, saying ; " Lo, you
" may see that my opinion is right: for if the man

60 Natural History. [Cent. X,

cc liad thought first, his thought had been fixed ; but
" the other imagining first, bound his thought."
Which though it did somewhat sink with me, yet I
made it lighter than I thought, and said; I thought
it was confederacy between the juggler and the two
servants : though, indeed, I had no reason so to
think, for they were both my father's servants ; and
he had never played in the house before. The jug-
gler also did cause a garter to be held up ; and took
upon him to know, that such an one should point in
such a place of the garter; as it should be near so
many inches to the longer end, and so many to the
shorter ; and still he did it, by first telling the irna-
giner, and after bidding the actor think.

HAVING told this relation, not for the weight
thereof, but because it doth handsomely open the na-
ture of the question, I return to that I said; that ex-
periments of imagination must be practised by others,
and not by a man's self. For there be three means to
fortify belief: the first is experience ; the second is
reason; and the third is authority: and that of these
which is far the most potent, is authority ; tor belief
upon reason or experience, will stagger.

947. FOR authority, it is of two kinds ; belief in an
art ; and belief in a man. And for things of belief
in an art, a man may exercise them by himself; but
for belief in a man, it must be by another. Therefore
if a man believe in astrology, and find a figure pros-
perous; or believe in natural magic, and that a ring
\vitli such a stone, or such a piece of a living creature,
carried, will do good; it may help his imagination :
but the belief in a man is far the more active. But
howsoever, all authority must be out of a man's self,
turned, as was said, either upon an art, or upon a
man: and where authority is from one man to an-
other, there the second must be ignorant, and not
learned, or full of thoughts; and such are, for the
most part, all witches and superstitious persons;
whose beliefs, tied to their teachers and traditions, are
no whit controlled either by reason or experience;
and upon the same reason, in magic, they use tor the

Cent. X.J Natural History.

most part boys and young people, whole spirits easi-
liest take belief and imagination.

Now to fortify imagination, there be three ways :
the authority whence the belief is derived; me ins to
quicken and corroborate the imagination ; and means
to repeat it and refresh it.

948. FOR the authority, we have already spoken :
as for the second, namely, the means to quicken and
corroborate the imagination; we see what hath been
used in magic, if there be in those practices any thing
that is purely natural, as vestments, characters, words,
seals ; some parts of plants, or living creatures ;
stones; choice of the hour ; gestures and motions ; also
incenses and odours ; choice of society, which in-
creased! imagination : diets and preparations for some
time before. And for words, there have been ever
used, either barbarous words, of no sense, lest they
should disturb the imagination; or words of simili-
tude, that may second and feed the imagination ; and
this was ever as well in heathen charms, as in charms
of latter times. There are used also Scripture words ;
for that the belief that religious texts and words have
power, may strengthen the imagination. And for the
same reason, Hebrew words, which amongst us is
counted the holy tongue, and the words more mysti-
cal, arc often used.

949. FOR the refreshing of the imagination, which
was the third means of exalting it, we see the prac-
tices of magic, as in images of wax, and the like, that
should melt by little and little ; or some other things
buried in muck, that should putrify by little and
little ; or the like : for so oft as the imaginant doth
think of those things, so oft doth he represent to his
imagination the effect of that he desireth.

950. IF there be any power in imagination, it is
less credible that it should be so incorporeal, and im-
materiate a virtue as to work at great distances, or
through all mediums, or upon all bodies : but that the
distance must be competent, the medium not adverse,
and the body apt and proportionate. Therefore if
there be any operation upon bodies in absence by na*

62 Natural History. [Cent. X.

ture, it is like to be conveyed from man to man, as
fame is ; as if a witch, by imagination, should hurt
any afar off, it cannot be naturally ; but by working
upon the spirit of some that cometh to the witch ; and
from that party upon the imagination of another; and
so upon another; till it come to one that hath resort
to the party intended; and so by him to the party
intended himself. And although they speak, that it
sufficeth to take a point, or a piece of the garment, or
the name of the party, or the like ; yet there is less
credit to be given to those things, except it be by
working of evil spirits.

THE experiments, which may certainly demonstrate
the power of imagination upon other bodies, are few
or none : for the experiments of witchcraft are no clear
proofs ; for that they may be by a tacit operation of
malign spirits : we shall therefore be forced, in this
inquiry, to resort to new experiments ; wherein we
can give only directions of trials, and not any positive
experiments And if any man think that we ought
to have stayed till we had made experiment of some
of them ourselves, as we do commonly in other titles,
the truth is, that these effects of imagination upon
other bodies have so little credit with us, as we shall
try them at leisure ; but in the mean time we will
lead others the way.

951. WHEN you work by the imagination of ano*
ther, it is necessary that he, by whom you work, have
a precedent opinion of you that you can do strange
things ; or that you are a man of art, as they call it ;
for else the simple affirmation to another, that this or
that shall be, can work but a weak impression in his
imagination.

952. IT were good, because you cannot discern
fully of the strength of imagination in one man more
than another, that you did use the imagination of more
than one, that so you may light upon a strong one.
As if a physician should tell three or four of his pa-
tient's servants, that their master shall surely recover.

953. THE imagination of one that you shall use,
such is the variety of mcns minds, cannot be always

Cent. X.] Natural History. 63

alike constant and strong ; and if the success follow
not speedily, it will faint and lose strength. To re-
medy this, you must pretend to him, whose imagina-
tion you use, several degrees of means, by which to
operate : as to prescribe him that every three days, if
he find not the success apparent, he do use another
root, or part of a beast, or ring, etc. as being of more
force ; and if that fail, another ; and if that, another,
till seven times. Also you must prescribe a good
large time for the effect you promise ; as if you should
tell a servant of a sick man that his master shall
recover, but it will be fourteen days ere he findeth it
apparently, etc. All this to entertain the imagina-
tion that it waver less.

954. IT is certain, that potions, or things taken
into the body ; incenses and perfumes taken at the
nostrils ; and ointments of some parts, do naturally
work upon the imagination of him that taketh them.
And therefore it must needs greatly co-operate with
the imagination of him whom you use, if you pre-
scribe him, before he do use the receipt, for the work
which he desireth, that he do take such a pill, or
a spoonful of liquor , or burn such an incense ; or
anoint his temples, or the soles of his feet, with such
an ointment or oil : and you must choose, for the
composition of such pill, perfume or ointment, such
ingredients as do make the spirits a little more gross
or muddy j whereby the imagination will fix the
better.

955. THE body passive, and to be wrought upon,
I mean not of the imaginant, is better wrought upon,
as hath been partly touched, at some times than at
others : as if you should prescribe a servant about a
sick person, whom you have possessed that his master
shall recover, when his master is fast asleep, to use
such a root, or such a root. For imagination is like
to work better upon sleeping men, than men awake -r
as we shall shew when we handle dreams.

956. WE find in the art of memory, that images
visible work better than other conceits : as if you
would remember the word philosophy, you shall more

64 Natural Ilistory. [Cent. X.

surely do it, by imagining, that such a man, for men
are best places, is reading upon Aristotle's Physics;
than if you should imagine him to say, " I'll go study
" philosophy." And therefore this observation should
be translated to the subject we now speak of: for
the more lustrous the imagination is, it filleth and
fixeth the better. And therefore I conceive, that you
shall, in that experiment, whereof we spake before,
of binding of thoughts, less fail, if you tell one that
such an one shall name one of twenty men, than if
it were one of twenty cards. The experiment of
binding of thoughts would be diversified and tried to
the full : and you are to note, whether it hit for the
most part, though not always.

957. Ir is good to consider, upon what things ima^
gination hath most force : and the rule, as I con-
ceive, is, that it hath most force upon things that
have the lightest and easiest motions. And therefore
above all, upon the spirits of men : and in them, upon
such affections as move lightest ; as upon procuring
of love ; binding of lust, which is ever with imagina-
tion ; upon men in fear ; or men in irresolution ; and
the like. Whatsoever is of this kind should be tho-
roughly inquired. Trials likewise should be made
upon plants, and that diligently : as if you should tell
a man, that such a tree would die this year ; and -will
him at these and these times to go unto it, to see how
it thriveth. As for inanimate tilings, it is true, that
the motions of shuffling of cards, or casting of dice,
are very *ht motions : and there is a folly very usual,
that gamesters imagine, that some that stand by them
bring them ill luck. There should be trial also made,
of holding a ring by a thread in a glass, and telling
him that holdeth it, before, that it shall strike so many
times against the side of the glass, and no more ; or
of holding a key between two mens fingers, without
a charm ; and to tell those that hold it, that at such
a name it shall go off their ringers : for these two
are extreme light motions. And howsoever I have
no opinion of these things, yet so much I conceive to
be true ; That strong imagination hath more force

Cent. X.] Natural History. 65

upon things living, or that have been living, than
things merely inanimate : and more force likewise
upon light and subtile motions, than upon motions
vehement or ponderous.

958. IT is an usual observation, that if the body of
one murdered be brought before the murderer, the
wounds will bleed afresh. Some do affirm, that the
dead body, upon the presence of the murderer, haft
opened the eyes; and that there have been such like
motions, as well where the parties murdered have
been strangled or drowned, as where they have been
killed by wounds. It may be, that this participateth
of a miracle, by God's just judgment, who usually
bringeth murders to light: but if it be natural, it
must be referred to imagination.

959. THE tying of the point upon the day of mar-
riage, to make men impotent towards their wives,
which, as we have formerly touched, is so frequent in
Zant and Gascony, if it be natural, must be referred
to the imagination of him that tieth the point. I con-
ceive it to have the less affinity with witchcraft, be-
cause not peculiar persons only, such as witches are,
but any body may do it.

Experiments in consort touching the secret virtue of
sympathy and antipathy.

960. THERE be many things that work upon the
spirits of man by secret sympathy and antipathy : the
virtues of precious stones worn, have been anciently
and generally received, and curiously assigned to work
several effects. So much is true ; that stones have in
them fine spirits, as appeareth by their splendor y and
therefore they may work by consent upon the spirits
of men, to comfort and exhilarate them. Those that
are the best, for that effect, are the diamond, the
emerald, the hyacinth oriental, and the gold stone,
which is the yellow topaz. As for their particular
proprieties, there is no credit to be given to them.
But it is manifest, that light, above all things, ex-
celleth in comforting the spirits of men : and it is
very probable, that light varied doth the same effect,

VOL. II. F

66 Natural History, [Cent. X,

with more novelty. And this is one of the causes
why precious stones comfort. And therefore it were
good to have tinctured lanthorns, or tinctured screens,
of glass coloured into green, blue, carnation, crimson,
purple, etc. and to use them with candles in the night.
So likewise to have round glasses, not only of glass
coloured through, but with colours laid between,
crystals, with handles to hold in one's hand. Prisms
are also comfortable things. They have of Paris^
work, looking-glasses, bordered with broad borders
of small crystal, and great counterfeit precious stones
of all colours, that are most glorious and pleasant to
behold ; especially in the night. The pictures of
Indian feathers are likewise comfortable and pleasant
to behold. So also fair and clear pools do greatly
comfort the eyes and spirits, especially when the sun
is not glaring, but over-cast ; or when the moon
shineth.

961. THERE be divers sorts of bracelets fit to com?
fort the spirits ; and they be of three intentions : re*
frigerant, corroborant, and aperient. For refrigerant,
I wish them to be of pearl, or of coral, as is used ;
and it hath been noted that coral, 'if the party that
weareth it be indisposed, will wax pale ; which I be-
lieve to be true, because otherwise disteniper of heat
will make coral lose colour. I commend also beads,
or little plates of lapis lazuli ; and beacjs of nitre,
either alone, or with some cordial mixture.

962. FOR corroboration and comfortation, take
such bodies as are of astringent quality, without ma-
nifest cold. I commend bead-amber, which is full
of astriction, but yet is unctuous, and not cold ; and
is conceived to impjnguate those that wear such
beads: 1 commend also beads of hartshorn and ivory;
which are of the like nature; also orange beads; also
beads of lignum aloes, macerated first in rose-water,
and dried.

9£3. FOR opening, I commend beads, or pieces
of the roots of- cardnus benedictus : also of the roots
of piony the male ; and of orrice -, and of calamus aru~
malleus s and of ruef

Cent. X.] Natural History. 67

964-. THE cramp, no doubt, cometh of contraction
of sinews ; which is manifest, in that it cometh either
by cold or dryness ; as after consumptions, and long
agues ; for cold and dryness do, both of them, con-
tract and corrugate. We see also, that chafing a little
above the place in pain, easeth the cramp ; which is
wrought by the dilatation of the contracted sinews by
heat. There are in use, for the prevention of the
cramp, two things ; the one rings of sea-horse teeth
worn upon the fingers : the other bands of green
periwinkle, the herb, tied about the calf of the leg,
or the thigh, etc. where the cramp useth to come. I
do find this the more strange, because neither of these
have any relaxing virtue, but rather the contrary. I
judge therefore, that their working is rather upon the
spirits, within the nerves, to make them strive less,
than upon the bodily substance of the nerves.

965. I would have trial made of two other kinds of
bracelets, for comforting the heart and spirits : the
one of the trochisk of vipers, made into little pieces
of beads ; for since they do great good inwards,
especially for pestilent agues, it is like they will be
•effectual outwards ; where they may be applied in
greater quantity. There should be trochisk likewise
made of snakes ; whose flesh dried is thought to have
a very opening and cordial virtue. The other is, of
beads made of the scarlet powder, which they call
kcrmts ; which is the principal ingredient in their
cordial confection alkermes : the beads should be
made up with ambergrease, and some pomander.

966. IT hath been long received and confirmed by
divers trials, that the root ot the male-piony dried, tied
to the neck, doth help the falling sickness ; and like-
wise the incubus, which we call the mare. The cause
of both these diseases, and especially of the epilepsy
from the stomach, is the grossness of the vapours
which rise and enter into the cells of the brain: and
therefore the working is by extreme and subtile at-
tenuation ; which that simple hath. I judge the
like to be in castorcum, musk, rue-seed, agmts castus
seed, etc*

F (2

68 Natural History. [Cent. X.

967. THERE is a stone which they call the blood-
stone, which worn is thought to be good for them that
bleed at the nose : which, no doubt, is by astriction
and cooling of the spirits. 2ue?y, if the stone taken
out of the toad's head, be not of the like virtue ; for
the toad loveth shade and coolness.

968. LIGHT may be taken from the experiment of
the horse-tooth ring, and the garland of periwinkle,
how that those things which assuage the strife of the
spirits, do help diseases contrary to the intention de-
sired : for in the curing of the cramp, the intention is
to relax the sinews ; but the contraction of the spirits,
that they strive less, is the best help: so to procure
easy travails of women, the intention is to bring down
the child ; but the best help is, to stay the coming
down too fast : whereunto they say, the toad-stone
likewise helpeth. So in pestilent fevers, the inten-
tion is to expel the infection by sweat and evapora-
tion : but the best means to do it is by nitre, diascor-
dium, and other cool things, which do for a time ar-
rest the expulsion, till nature can do it more quietly.
For as one saith prettily; " In the quenching of the
" flame of a pestilent ague, nature is like people that
" come to quench the fire of a house ; which are so
" busy, as one of them letteth another.5* Surely
it is an excellent axiom, and of manifold use, that
whatsoever appeaseth the contention of the spirits,
furthereth their action.

969. THE writers of natural magic commend the
wearing of the spoil of a snake, for preserving of
health. I doubt it is but a conceit; for that the
snake is thought to renew her youth, by casting her
spoil. They might as well take the beak of an eagle,
or a piece of a hart's horn, because those renew.

970. IT hath been anciently received, for Pericles
the Athenian used it, and it is yet in use, to wear
little bladders of quicksilver, or tablets of arsenic, as
preservatives against the plague: not as they con-
ceive for any comfort they yield to the spirits, but for
that being poisons themselves, they draw the venom
to them from the spirits.

Cent. X.] Natural History. 69

971. VIDE the experiments 95, 96, and 97, touch-
ing the several sympathies and antipathies for me-
dicinal use.

972. IT is said, that the guts or skin of a wolf
being applied to the belly, do cure the colic. It is
true, that the wolf is a beast of great edacity and di-
gestion ; and so it may be the parts of him comfort
the bowels.

973. WE see scare-crows are set up to keep birds
from corn and fruit ; it is reported by some, that the
head of a wolf, whole, dried, and hanged up in a
dove-house, will scare away vermin ; such as are
weasles, pole-cats, and the like. It may be the head
of a dog will do as much ; for those vermin with us,
know dogs better than wolves.

974. THE brains of some creatures, when their heads
are roasted, taken in wine, are said to strengthen the
memory ; as the brains of hares, brains of hens, brains
of deers, etc. And it seemeth to be incident to the
brains of those creatures that are fearful.

975. THE ointment that witches use, is reported to
be made of the fat of children digged out of their
graves; of the juices of smallage, wolf-bane, and
cinque-foil, mingled with the meal of fine wheat.
But I suppose, that the soporiferous medicines are
likest to do it; which are henbane, hemlock, man-
drake, moonshade, tobacco, opium, saffron, poplar-
leaves, etc.

976. IT is reported by some, that the affections of
beasts when they are in strength do add some virtue
unto inanimate things ; as that the skin of a sheep de-
voured by a wolf, moveth itching ; that a stone bitten
by a dog in anger, being thrown at him, drunk in pow-
der, provoketh choler.

977. IT hath been observed that the diet of women
with child doth work much upon the infant; as if the
mother eat quinces much, and coriander-seed, the na-
ture of both which is to repress and stay vapours that
ascend to the brain, it will make the child ingenious:
and on the contrary side, if the mother eat much
onions or beans, or such vaporous food; or drink

70 Natural History. [Cent. X.

wine, or strong drink immoderately ; or fast much; or
be given to much musing; all which send or draw
vapours to the head ; it endangereth the child to be-
come lunatic, or of imperfect memory: and I make
the same judgment of tobacco often taken by the mo-
ther.

978. THE writers of natural magic report, that the
heart of an ape, worn near the heart comforteth the
heart, and increaseth audacity. It is true that the ape is
a merry and bold beast. And that the same heart like-
wise of an ape, applied to the neck or head, helpeth
the wit; and is good for the falling sickness : the ape
also is a witty beast, and hath a dry brain ; which
may be some cause of attenuation of vapours in the
head. Yet it is said to move dreams also. It may
be the heart of a man would do more, but that it is
more against men's minds to use it; except it be in
such as wear the reliques of saints.

979. THE flesh of a hedge-hog, dressed and eaten,
is said to be a great drier: it is true that the juice of a
hedge-hog must needs be harsh and dry, because it
putteth forth so many prickles : for plants also that are
full of prickles are generally dry ; as briars, thorns,
berberries ; and therefore the ashes of an hedge-hog
are said to be a great desiccative of fistulas.

980. MUMMY hath great force in stanching of
blood ; which, as it may be ascribed to the mixture
of balms that are glutinous; so it may also partake of
a secret propriety, in that the blood draweth man's
flesh. And it is approved that the moss which groweth
upon the skull of a dead man unburied, will stanch
blood potently : and so do the dregs, or powder of
blqod, severed from the water, and dried.

981. IT hath been practised, to make white swal<-
lows, by anointing of the eggs with oil. Which ef-
fect may be produced, by the stopping of the pores of
the shell, and making the juice that putteth forth the
feathers afterwards more penurious. And it may be,
the anointing of the eggs v. ill be as effectual as the
anointing of the body; of which vide the experiment

Cent. X.] Natural His ton). 71

982. IT is reported* that the white of an egg, or
bloodj mingled With salt-water, doth gather the salt-,
ness, and maketh the water sweeter. This may be by
adhesion ; as in the sixth experiment of clarification :
it may be also, that blood, and the white of an egg,
which is the matter of a living creature, have some sym-
pathy with salt : for all life hath a sympathy with
salt. We see that salt laid to a cut finger healeth it;
so as it seemeth salt draweth blood, as well as
blood draweth salt.

983. IT hath been anciently received, that the sea-
hare hath an antipathy with the lungs, if it Cometh
near the body, and erodeth them. Whereof the
cause is conceived to be, a quality it hath of heating
the breath and spirits; as cantharides have upon the
watery parts of the body, as urine and hydropical wa-
ter. And it is a good rule, that whatsoever hath an
operation upon certain kinds of matters, that, in
man's body, worketh most upon those parts wherein
that kind of matter aboundetru

984. GENERALLY that which is dead or corrupted,
or exerned, hath antipathy with the same thing when
it is alive, and when it is sound ; and with those parts
which do excern : as a carcase of man is most infec-
tious and odious to man ; a carrion of an horse to a
horse, etc. purulent matter of wounds, and ulcers,
carbuncles, pocks, scabs, leprosy, to sound flesh; and
the excrement of e very sgecies to that creature that ex-
cerneth them : but the excrements are less pernicious
than the corruptions.

985. IT is a common experience, that dogs know
the dog-killer; when, as in times of infection, some
petty fellow is sent out to kill the dogs; and that
though they have never seen him before, yet they will
all come forth, and bark, and fly at him.

986. THE relations touching the force of imagina-
tion, and the secret instincts of nature, are so uncer-
tain, as they require a great deal of examination ere
we conclude upon them. I would have it first tho-
roughly inquired, whether there be any secret pas*
sages of sympathy between persons of near blood 5 as

72 Natural History. [Cent. X.

parents, children, brothers, sisters, nurse-children, hus-
band s, wives, etc. There be many reports in history, that
upon the death of persons of such nearness, men have
had an inward feeling of it. I myself remember, that
being in Paris, and my father dying in London, two
or three days before my father's death, I had a dream,
which I told to divers English gentlemen; that rny
father's house in the country was plastered all over
with black mortar. There is an opinion abroad,
whether idle or no I cannot say, that loving and kind
husbands have a sense of their wives bree-ding chil-
dren, by some accident in their own body.

987. NEXT to those that are near in blood, there
may be the like passage, and instincts of nature, be-
tween great friends and enemies : and sometimes the
revealing is unto another person, and not to the party
himself. I remember Philippus Commineus, a grave
writer, reporteth, that the archbishop of Vienna, a
reverend prelate, said one day after mass to king
Lewis the eleventh of France : " Sir, your mortal ene-
KC my is dead ;" what time duke Charles of Burgundy
was slain at the battle of Granson against the Swit-
zers. Some trial also should be made, whether pact
or agreement do any thing ; as if two friends should
agree, that such a day in every week, they being in
far distant places, should pray one for another ; or
should put on a ring or tablet one for another's sake;
whether if one of them should break their vow and
promise, the other should have any feeling of it in
absence.

988. IF there be any force in imaginations and af-
fections of singular persons, it is probable the force
is much more in the joint imaginations and affections
of multitudes : as if a victory should be won or lost in
remote parts, whether is there not some sense thereof
in the people whom it concerneth ; because of the
great joy or grief that many men are possessed with at
once ? Pius Quintus, at the very time when that me-
morable victory w;is won by the Christians against
the Turks, at the naval battle of Lepanto, being then
hairing of. causes in consistory, brake off suddenly,

Cent. X.] Natural History. 73

and said to those about him, " It is now more time
" we should give thanks to God, for the great vic-
" tory he hath granted us against the Turks:" it is
true, that victory had a sympathy with his spirit ; for
it was merely his work to conclude that league. It
may be that revelation was divine ; but what shall
we say then to a number of examples amongst the
Grecians and Romans ? where the people being in
theatres at plays, have had news of victories and over-
throws, some few days before any messenger could
come.

IT is true, that that may hold in these things, which
is the general root of superstition : namely, that men
observe when things hit, and not when they miss ; and
commit to memory the one, and forget and pass over
the other. But touching divination, and the misgiv-
ing of minds, we shall speak more when we handle
in general the nature of minds, and souls, and spirits.

989. WE have given formerly some rules of imagi-
nation; and touching the fortifying of the same. We
have set down also some few instances and directions,
of the force of imagination upon beasts, birds, etc.
upon plants, and upon inanimate bodies : wherein you
must still observe, that your trials be upon subtle and
light motions, and not the contrary ; for you will
sooner by imagination bind a bird from singing, than
from eating or Hying : and I leave it to every man, to
choose experiments, which himself thinketh most com-
modious; giving now but a few examples of every of
the three kinds.

990. USE some imaginant, observing the rules for-
merly prescribed, for binding of a bird from singing ;
and the like of a dog from barking. Try also the
imagination of some, whom you shall accommodate
with things to fortify it, in cock-fights, to make one
cock more hardy, and the other more cowardly. It
should be tried also in flying of hawks ; or in coursing
of a deer, or hare, with greyhounds: or in horse-
races ; and the like comparative motions : for you
may sooner by imagination quicken or slack a mo-?
tion, than raise or cease it ; as it is easier to make a

74 Katural History* [Cent. X.

dog go slower, than to make him stand still, that he
may not run.

991. IN plants also you may try the force of imagi-
nation upon the lighter sort of motions : as upon the
sudden fading, or lively coining up of herbs ; or upon
their bending one way or other; or upon their closing
and opening, etc.

992. FOR inanimate things you may try the force
of imagination, upon staying the working of beer
when the barm is put in ; or upon the coming of butter
or cheese, after the churning, or the rennet be put in.

993. IT is an ancient tradition every where al-
Jedged, for example of secret proprieties and influxes,
that the torpedo marina, if it be touched with a long
stick, doth stupify the hand of him that toucheth it*
It is one degree of working at distance, to work by
the continuance of a fit medium; as sound will be
conveyed to the ear, by striking upon a bow-string,
if the horn of the bow be held to the ear.

994. THE writers of natural magic do attribute
much to the virtues that come from the parts of living
creatures ; so as they be taken from them, the crea-
tures remaining still alive : as if the creatures still living
did infuse some immateriate virtue and vigour into the
part severed. So much may be true ; that any part
taken from a living creature newly slain, may be of
greater force, than if it were taken from the like crea-
ture dying of itself, because it is fuller of spirit.

995. TRIAL should be made of the like parts of in-
dividuals in plants and living creatures; as to cut off
a stock of a tree, and to lay that which you cut off
to putrify, to see whether it will decay the rest of the
stock : or if you should cut off part of the tail or leg of
a dog or a cat, and lay it to putrify, and so see whe-
ther it will fester or keep from healing the part which
remaineth.

996. IT is received, that it helpeth to continue
love, if one wear a ring, or a bracelet, of the hair of
the party beloved. But that may be by the exciting
of the imagination : and perhaps a glove, or other like
favour, may as well do it.

Cent. X.] Natural History. 75

997. THE sympathy of individuals, that have been
entire, or have touched, is of all others the most in-
credible: yet according to our faithful .manner of ex-
amination of nature, we will make some little men-
tion of it. The taking away of warts, by rubbing them
with somewhat that afterwards is put to waste and
consume, is a common experiment ; and I do appre-
hend it the rather because of my own experience. I
had from my childhood a wart upon one of my fingers:
afterwards, when I was about sixteen years old, be^
ing then at Paris, there grew upon both my hands a
number of warts, at the least an hundred, in a month's
space. The English ambassador's lady, who was a
woman far from superstition, told me one day, she
would help me away with my warts : whereupon she
got a piece of lard with the skin on, and rubbed the
warts all over with the fat side ; and amongst the rest,
that wart which I had had from my childhood : then
she nailed the piece of lard, with the fat towards the
sun, upon a post of her chamber window, which was
to the south. The success was, that within five weeks
space all the warts went quite away : and that wart
which 1 had so long endured, for company. But at
the rest 1 did little marvel, because they came in a
short time, and might go away in a short time again :
but the going away of that which had stayed so long
doth yet stick with me. They say the like is done by
the rubbing of warts with a green alder stick, and
then burying the stick to rot in muck. It should be
tried with corns and wens, and such other excre-
scences. I would have it also tried with some parts
of living creatures, that are nearest the nature of ex-
crescences ; as the combs of cocks, the spurs of cocks,
the horns of beasts, etc. And I would have it tried
both ways ; both by rubbing those parts with lard, or
alder, as before ; and by cutting off some piece of
.those parts, and laying it to -consume : to see whether
it will work any effect towards the consumption of
that part which was once joined with it.

998. IT is constantly received and avouched, that
the anointing of the weapon that maketh the -wound,

76 Natural History. [Cent. !X.

will heal the wound itself. In this experiment, upon
the relation of men of credit, though myself, as yet,
am not fully inclined to believe it, you shall note the
points following : first, the ointment wherewith this
is done, is made of divers ingredients ; whereof the
strangest and hardest to come by, are the moss upon
the skull of a dead man unburied ; and the fats of a
boar and a bear killed in the act of generation. These
two last I could easily suspect to be prescribed -as a
starting-hole; that if the experiment proved not, it
might be pretended that the beasts were not killed in
the due time ; for as for the moss, it is certain there
is great quantity of it in Ireland, upon slain bodies,
laid on heaps unburied. The other ingredients are,
the blood-stone in powder, and some other things,
which seem to have a virtue to stanch blood ; as also
the moss hath. And the description of the whole
ointment is to be found in the chemical dispensatory
of Crollius. Secondly, the same kind of ointment
applied to the hurt itself worketh not the effect ; but
only applied to the weapon. Thirdly, which I like
well, they do not observe the confecting of the oint-
ment under any certain constellation \ which com-
monly is the excuse of magical medicines when they
fail, that they were not made under a fit figure of hea-
ven. Fourthly, it may be applied to the weapon,
though the party hurt be at great distance. Fifthly,
it seemeth the imagination of the party to be cured is
not needful to concur ; for it may be done without the
knowledge of the party wounded : and thus much has
been tried, that the ointment for experiment's sake,
hath been wiped off the weapon, without the know-
Jedge of the party hurt, and presently the party hurt
has been in great rage of pain, till the weapon was re-
anointed. Sixthly, it is affirmed, that if you cannot
get the weapon, yet if you put an instrument of iron
or wood, resembling the weapon, into the wound,
whereby it bleedeth, the anointing of that instrument
will serve and work the effect. This I doubt should
be a device to keep this strange form of cure in re-
quest and .use : because many times you cannot come

Cent. X.] Natural History. 77

by the weapon itself. Seventhly, the wound must be
at first washed clean with white wine, or the party's
own water; and then bound up close in fine linen,
and no more dressing renewed till it be whole.
Eighthly, the sword itself must be wrapped up close,
as far as the ointment goeth, that it taketh no wind.
Ninthly, the ointment, if you wipe it off from the
sword and keep it, will serve again ; and rather
increase in virtue than diminish. Tenthly, it will
cure in far shorter time, than ointments of wounds
commonly do. Lastly, it will cure a beast as well
as a man ; which I like best of all the rest, because
it subjecteth the matter to an easy trial.

Experiment solitary touching secret proprieties.

999. I WOULD have men know, that though I re-
prehend the easy passing over the causes of things, by
ascribing them to secret and hidden virtues, and pro-*
prieties, for this hath arrested and laid asleep all true
inquiry and indications, yet I do not understand, but
that in the practical part of knowledge, much will be
left to experience and probation, whereunto indica-
tion cannot so fully reach : and this not only in specie,
but in individuo. So in physic ; if you will cure the
jaundice, it is not enough to say, that the medicine
must not be cooling; for that will hinder the opening
which the disease requireth : that it must not be hot ;
for that will exasperate choler: that it must go to the
gall ; for there is the obstruction which causeth the
disease, etc. But you must receive from experience
that powder of Chamapytis, or the like, drunk in beer,
is good for the jaundice. So again a wise physician
doth not continue still the same medicine to a patient;
but he will vary, if the first medicine doth not appa-
rently succeed: for of those remedies that are good for
the jaundice, stone, agues, etc. that will do good in
one body, which will not do good in another ; ac-
cording to the correspondence the medicine hath to
the individual body.

Natural History. [Cent . X .

Experiment solitary touching the general sympathy of
mens spirits.

1000. TIIK delight which men have in popularity,
fame, honour, submission, and subjection of other
mens minds, wills, or affections, although these things
may be desired for other ends, seemcth to be a thing
in itself, without contemplation of consequence, grate-
ful and agreeable to the nature of man. This thing,
surely, is not without some signification, as if all spi-
rits and souls of men came forth out of one divine
limbus ; else why should men be so much affected with
that which others think or say? The best temper of
minds desireth good name and true honour: the
lighter, popularity and applause : the more depraved,
subjection and tyranny ; as is seen in great conquerors
and troublers of the world : and yet more in arch-
heretics ; for the introducing of new doctrines is like-
wise an affectation of tyranny over the understandings
and beliefs of men.

NEW ATLANTIS.

A WORK UNFINISHED.

TO

THE READER.

TlIIS fable my lord devised, to the end that he might
exhibit therein a model or description of a college, insti-
tuted for the interpreting of nature, and the producing
of great and marvellous works for the benefit of men ;
under the name of Solomon's house, or the College of th*
six days works. And even so far his lordship hath pro-
ceeded, as to finish that part. Certainly the model is
more vast and high, than can possibly be imitated in all
things; notwithstanding most things therein are within
men'spozver to effect. His lordship thought also in this
present fable , to have composed a frame of laws, or of the
best state or mould of a commonwealth ; but foreseeing
it would be a long work, his desire of collecting the Natu-
ral History diverted him, which he preferred many de-
grees before it.

Jlds work of the New Atlantis, as much as concern-
eth the E?iglish edition, his lordship designed for this
place ; in regard it hath so near affinity, in one part of
it, zvith the preceding Natural History.

W. RAW LEY.

NEW ATLANTIS,

vV E sailed from Peru, where we had continued
by the space of one whole year, for China and Ja-
pan, by the South Sea, taking with us victuals for
twelve months; and had good winds from the east,
though soft and weak, for five months space and
more. But then the wind came about, and settled in
the west for many days, so as we could make little or
no way, and were sometimes in purpose to turn back.
But then again there arose strong and great winds
from the south, with a point east, which carried us up,
for all that we could do, towards the north : by which
time our victuals failed us, though we had made good
spare of them. So that finding ourselves in the midst
of the greatest wilderness of waters in the world,
without victual, we gave ourselves for lost men, and
prepared for death. Yet we did lift up our hearts
and voices to God above, who sheweth his wonders in
the deep; beseeching him of his mercy, that as in the
beginning he discovered the face of the deep, and
brought forth dry land ; so he would now discover
land to us, that we might not perish. And it came
to pass, that the next day about evening, we saw-
within a kenning before us, towards the north, as it
were thick clouds, which did put us in some hope of
land ; knowing how that part of the South Sea was ut-
terly unknown ; and might have islands or continents,
that hitherto were not come to light. Wherefore we bent
our course thither, where we saw the appearance of
land all that night ; and in the dawning of the next
day, we might plainly discern that it was a land, flat
to our sight, and full of boscage, which made it shew
the more dark. And after an hour and a half's sail-
ing, we entered into a good haven, being the port of
a fair city i not great indeed, but well built, and that
gave a pleasant view from the sea : and we thinking

VOL, II. Q

82 Ktw Atlantis.

every minute long till we were on land, came close to
the shore, and offered to land. But straitways we saw
divers of the people with bastons in their hands, as it
were, forbidding us to land ; yet without any cries or
fierceness, but only as warning us off by signs that
they made. Whereupon being not a little discom-
forted, we were advising with ourselves what we
should do. During which time there made forth to
us a small boat, with about eight persons in it ;
whereof one of them had in his hand a tipstaff of a
yellow cane, tipped at both ends with blue, who
came aboard our ship, without any shew of distrust
at all. And when he saw one of our number present
himself somewhat afore the rest, he drew forth a little
scroll of parchment, somewhat yellower than our
parchment, and shining like the leaves of writing-
tables, but otherwise soft and flexible, and delivered
it to our foremost man. In which scroll were written
in ancient Hebrew, and in ancient Greek, and in
good Latin of the school, and in Spanish, these
words; " Land ye not, none of you, and provide to
" be gone from this coast within sixteen days, except
<c you have further time given you: mean while, if
" you want fresh water, or victual, or help for your
if sick, or that your ship nccdcth repair, write down
<e your wants, and you shall have that which belong-
" eth to mercy." This scroll was signed with a
stamp of cherubims wings, not spread, but hanging
downwards, and by them a cross. This being deli-
vered, the officer returned, and left only a servant with
us to receive our answer. Consulting hereupon
amongst ourselves, we were much perplexed. The
denial of landing, and hasty warning us away, trou-
bled us much ; on the other side, to find that the peo-
ple had languages, and were so full of humanity, did
comfort us not a little. And above all, the sign of
the cross to that instrument was to us a great rejoic-
ing, and as. it. were a certain presage of good. Our
answer was in the Spanish tongue ; " That for our
" ship, it was-well ; for we had rather met with calms
C( and contrary winds than any tempests. For our

New Atlantis. 83

rc sick they were ninny, and in very ill case ; so that
" if they were not permitted to land, they ran in dan-
" ger of their lives." Our other wants we set down
in particular ; adding, " that we had some little store
cc of merchandise, which if it pleased them to deal
" for, it might supply our wants without being
" chargeable unto them." We offered some reward
in pistolets unto the servant, and a piece of crimson
velvet to be presented to the officer ; but the servant
took them not, nor would scarce look upon them; and
so left us, and went back in another little boat which
was sent for him.

About three hours after we had dispatched our an-
swer, there came towards us a person, as it seemed, of
place. He had on him a gown with wide sleeves, of
a kind of water-camlet, of an excellent azure colour,
far more glossy than ours ; his under apparel was
green, and so was his hat, being in the form of a tur-
ban, daintily made, and not so huge as the Turkish
turbans ; and the locks of his hair came down below
the brims of it. A reverend man was he to behold.
He came in a boat, gilt in some part of it, with four
persons more only in that boat ; and was followed by
another boat, wherein were some twenty. When he
was come within a flight shot of our ship, signs were
made to us, that we should send forth some to meet
him upon the water, which we presently did in our
ship-boat, sending the principal man amongst us save
one, and four of our number with him. When we
were come within six yards of their boat, they
called to us to stay, and not to approach farther ;
which we did. And thereupon the man, whom I be-
fore described, stood up, and with a loud voice in
Spanish, asked, "Are ye Christians?" We answer-
ed, " we were ;" fearing the less, because of the cross
we had seen in the subscription. At which answer
the said person lift up his right hand towards heaven,
and drew it softly to his mouth, which is the gesture
they use when they thank Gqd, and then said : " If
" ye will swear, all of you, by the merits of the
*' Saviour, that ye are no pirates 5 nor have shed

G 2

84 New Atlantis. 1

<c blood lawfully nor unlawfully within forty days
" past; you may have licence to come on land.*' We
said, " we were all ready to take that oath." Where-
upon one of those that were with him, being, as it
seemed, a notary, made an entry of this act. Which
done, another of* the attendants of the great person,
which was with him in the same boat, after his lord
had spoken a little to him, said aloud; " My lord
" would have you know, that it is not of pride or
<c greatness, that he cometh not aboard your ship ;
" but for that in your answer you declare, that you
" have many sick amongst you, he was warned by
" the conservator of health of the city, that he should
" keep a distance.'* We bowed ourselves towards
him and answered, " we were his humble servants;
" and accounted for great honour and singular huma-
" nity towards us, that which was already done ; but
" hoped well, that the nature of the sickness of our
" men was not infectious." So he returned ; and a
while after came the notary to us aboard our ship;
holding in his hand a fruit of that country, like an
orange, but of colour between orange-tawny and scar-
let, which cast a most excellent odour. He used it,
as it seemeth, for a preservative against infection.
He gave us our oath ; tc By the name of Jesus and
" his merits :" and after told us, that the next day by
six of the clock in the morning we should be sent to,
and brought to the Strangers house, so he called it,
where we should be accommodated with things, both
for our whole, and for our sick. So he left us; and
when we offered him some pistokts, he smiling, said,
" he must not be twice paid for one labour :" mean-
ing, as I take it, that he had salary sufficient of the
state for his service. For, as I afterwards learned,
they call an officer that taketh rewards, Twice-paid.

The next morning early, there came to us the same
officer that came to us at first with his cane, and told
us, " he came to conduct us to the Strangers house ;
<f and that he had prevented the hour, because we
" might have the whole day before us for our busi-
" ness. For, said he, if you will follow my advice,

New Atlantis.

" there shall first go with me some few of you, and see
" the place, and how it may be made convenient for
" you; and then you may send for your sick, and the
" rest of your number, which ye will bring on land."
We thanked him, and said, that his care, which he
took of desolate strangers, God would reward. And
so six of us went on land with him : and when we
were on land, he went before us, and turned to us,
and said ; " he was but our servant and our guide."
.He led us through three fair streets ; and all the way
we went there were gathered some people on both
sides, standing in a row ; but in so civil a fashion, as
if it had been, not to wonder at us, but to welcome us ;
and divers of them, as we passed by them, put their
arms a little abroad; which is their gesture when they
bid any welcome. The Strangers house is a fair and
spacious house, built of brick, of somewhat a bluer
colour than our brick ; and with handsome windows,
some of glass, some of a kind of cambric oiled. He
brought us first into a fair parlour above stairs, and
then asked us, " What number of persons we were?
44 And how many sick ?" We answered, " we were
" in all, sick and whole, one and fifty persons,
" whereof our sick were seventeen." He desired us
to have patience a little, and to sta^ till he came back
to us, which was about an hour aher ; and then he
led us to see the chambers, which were provided for
us, being in number nineteen : They having cast it,
as it seemeth, that four of those chambers, which were
better than the rest, might receive four of the princi-
pal men of our company, and lodge them alone by
themselves ; and the other fifteen chambers, were to
lodge us two and two together. The chambers were
handsome and chearful chambers, and furnished ci-
villy. Then he led us to a long gallery, like a dor-
ture, where he shewed us all along the one side, for
the other side was but wall and window, seventeen
cells, very neat ones, having partitions of cedar wood.
Which gallery and cells, being in all forty, many
more than we needed, were instituted as an infirmary
for sick persons. And he told us withal, that as any

86 New Atlantis.

of our sick waxed well, he might be removed from
his cell to a chamber : for which purpose there were
set forth ten spare chambers, besides the number we
spake of before. This done, he brought us back to
the parlour, and lifting up his cane a little, as they do
when they give any charge or command, said to us,
" Ye are to know that the custom of the land requir-
<c eth, that after this day and to-morrow, which we
" give you for removing of your people from your
" ship, you are to keep within doors for three days.
<c But let it not trouble you, nor do not think your-*
" selves restrained, but rather left to your rest and
" ease. You shall want nothing, and there are six
" of our people appointed to attend you, for any bu-
" siness you may have abroad.'* We gave him thanks,
with all affection and respect, and said, 'f* God surely
" is manifested in this land." We offered him
also twenty pistolets; but he smiled, and only said;
« What? twice paid!'' And so he left us. Soon
after our dinner was served in; which was right good
viands, both for bread and meat : better than any col^
legiate diet that I have known in Europe. We had
also drink of three sorts, all wholesome and good ;
wine of the grape ; a drink of grain, such as is with us
our ale, but more clear; and a kind of cider made of
a fruit of that country ; a wonderful pleasing and re-
freshing drink. Besides, there were brought in to us
great store of those scarlet oranges for our sick ; which,
they siiid, were an assured remedy for sickness taken
at sea. There was given us also, a box of small grey
or whitish pills, which they wished our sick should
take, one of the pills every night before sleep ; which,
they said, would hasten their recovery. The next day,
after that our trouble of carriage, and removing of
our men, and goods out of our ship, was somewhat
settled and quiet, I thought good to call our company
together; and when they were assembled, said unto
them ; " My dear friends, let us know ourselves, and
*' how it standcth with us. We are men cast on
ic land, as Jonas was, out of the whale's belly, ivhen
" we were, as buried in the deep : and now we are

New Atlantis. $7

" on land, we are but between death and life , fa*
<e we are beyond both the old world and the new ;
cc and whether ever we shall see Europe, God only
" knoweth. It is a kind of miracle hath brought us
" hither: and It must be little less that shall bring
" us hence. Therefore in regard of our deliverance
" past, and our danger present and to come, let us
<c look up to God, and every man reform his own
" ways. Besides we are come here among a Christian
tc people, full of piety and humanity: let us not bring
" that confusion of face upon ourselves, as to shew
<c our vices or unworthiness before them. Yet there
" is more : for they have by commandment, though
" in form of courtesy, cloistered us within these
" walls for three days : who knoweth whether it be
" not to take some taste of our manners and condi-
" tions ? And if they find them bad, to banish us
" straightways; if good, to give us farther time.
" For these men, that they have given us for attend-
" ance, may withal have an eye upon us. Therefore
" for God's love, and as we love the weale of our
" souls and bodies, let us so behave ourselves as we
•" may be at peace with God, and may find grace in
" the eyes of this people." Our company with one
voice thanked me for my good admonition, and pro-
mised me to live soberly and civilly, and without giv-
ing any the least occasion of oifence. So we spent our
three days joyfully, and without care, in expectation
what would be done with us when they were ex-
pired. During which time, we had every hour joy of
the amendment of our sick ; who thought themselves
cast into some divine pool of healing ; they mended
so kindly and so fast.

The morrow after our three days were past, there
came to us a new man, that we had not seen before,
clothed in blue as the former was, save that his turban
was white, with a small red cross on the top. He
had also a tippet of fine linen. At his coming in he
did bend to us a little, and put his arms abroad. We
of our parts saluted him in a very lowly and submis-
sive manner ; as. looking that from him we should re-

88 AW Atlantis.

ceive sentence of life or death. He desired to speak
with some few of us : whereupon six of us only stayed,
and the rest avoided the room. He said, " I am by
" office governor of this House of Strangers, and by
" vocation I am a Christian priest ; and therefore am
" come to you, to offer you my service, both as stran-
" gers, and chiefly as Christians. Some things I may
" tell you, which I think you will not be unwilling
" to hear. The state hath given you licence to stay
" on land for the space of six weeks : and let it not
" trouble you if your occasions ask farther time, for the
*' law in this point is not precise ; and I do not doubt
" but myself shall be able to obtain for you such far-
" thertimeasmay be convenient. Ye shall also under-
" stand, that the Strangers house is at this time rich,
" and much aforehand; for it hath laid up revenue
" these thirty-seven years; for so long it is sin«ce any
" stranger arrived in this part : and therefore take ye
" no care; the state will defray you all the time you
" stay ; neither shall you stay one day the less for
" that. As for any merchandise you have brought,
" ye shall be well used, and have your return
" either in merchandise, or in gold and silver :
" for to us it is all one. And if you have any other
" request to make, hide it not. For ye shall find, we
" will not make your countenance to fall by the an-
" swer ye shall receive. Only this I must tell you,
« that none of you must go above a karan, that is with
" them a mile and an half, from the walls of the
" city without special leave." We answered, after
we had looked awhile one upon another, admiring
this gracious and parent-like usage ; " that we could
*£ not tell what to say : for we wanted words to ex-
" press our thanks; and his noble free offers left us
" nothing to ask. Jt seemed to us, that we had be-
" fore us a picture of our salvation in heaven: for
" we that were awhile since in the jaws of death,
" were now brought into a place where we found
" nothing but consolations. For the commandment
" laid upon us, we would not fail to obey it, though
" it was impossible but our hearts should be inflamed

New Atlantis. 89

" to tread farther upon this happy and holy ground,
" We added ; that our tongues should first cleave to
" the roofs of our mouths, ere we should forget either
" his reverend person, or this whole nation in our
" prayers.'* We also most humbly besought him to
accept of us as his true servants, by as just a right as
ever men on earth were bounden, laying and present-
ing both our persons and all we had at his feet. He
said ; " he was a priest, and looked for a priest's re-
" ward ; which was our brotherly love, and the good
" of our souls and bodies." So he went from us, not
without tears of tenderness in his eyes; and left us also
confused with joy and kindness, saying amongst our-
selves, " that we were come into a land of angels,
" which did appear to us daily, and prevent us with
(( comforts which we thought not of, much less ex-
« pected."

The next day, about ten of the clock the governor

came to us again, and after salutations said familiarly,

that he was come to visit us; and called for a chair,

and sat him down : and we being some ten of us, the

rest were of the meaner sort, or else gone abroad, sat

down with him. And when we were set, he began

thus: " We of this island of Bensalem, for so they

(S call it in their language, have this; that by means

" of our solitary situation, and of the laws of secrecy

" which we have for our travellers, and our rare ad-

" mission of strangers ; we know well most part of

" the habitable world, and are ourselves unknown.

" Therefore because he that knoweth least is fittest

ce to ask questions, it is more reason for the entertain-

" ment of the time, that ye ask me questions, thai^

" that I ask you." We answered ; " That we

" humbly thanked him that he would give us leave

" so to do : and that we conceived by the taste we

<c had already, that there was no worldly thing on

" earth more worthy to be known than the state of

" that happy land. But above all, we said, since

" that we were met from the several ends of the

" world, and hoped assuredly that we should meet one

" day in the kingdom of heaven, for that we were

New Atlantis.

" both parts Christians, we desired to know, in re-
" spect that land was so remote, and so divided by
*' vast and unknown seas, from the land where our
cc Saviour walked on earth, who was the apostle of
" that nation, and how it was converted to the
" faith ?" It appeared in his face that he took great
contentment in this our question : he said, " Ye
" knit my heart to you, by asking this question in
<e the first place ; for it sheweth that you.first seek the
" kingdom of heaven > and I shall gladly and briefly
" satisfy your demand.

" About twenty years after the ascension of our
te Saviour, it came to pass, that there was seen by
<c the people of Renfusa, a city upon the eastern
" coast of our island, within night, the night was
f< cloudy and calm, as it might be some mile into the
" sea, a great pillar of light ; not sharp, but -in form
" of a column or cylinder rising from the sea, a great
"Way up towards heaven; and on the top of it was
" seen a large cross of light, more bright and resplen~
" dent than the body of the pillar. Upon which so
" strange a spectacle, the people of the city gathered
" apace together upon the sands to wonder ; and so
" after put themselves into a number of small boats,
" to go nearer to this marvellous sight. But when
" the boats were come within about sixty yards of
" the pillar, they found themselves all bound, and
" could go no farther, yet so as they might move to
" go about, but might not approach nearer : so as the
<f boats stood all as in a theatre, beholding this light
" as an heavenly sign. It so fell out, that there was
" in one of the boats one of the wise men of the so-
" ciety ot Solomon's house, which house or college,

my good brethren, is the very eye of this kingdom ;
" who having awhile attentively and devoutly viewed

and contemplated this pillar and cross, fell down

upon his face ; and then raised himself upon his

knees, and lifting up his hands to heaven, made

his prayers in this manner:

" Lord God ofJtearen and-carih ; thou liast vouchsafed
f of tty grate, to those of our order, to know thy works

New Atlantis. 91

" of creation, and the secrets of them; and to discern,
" as far- as appertaineth to the generations of men, be-
" tween divine miracles, works of nature, works of art,
" and impostures and illusions of all sorts. I do here
" acknowledge and testify before this people, that the
" thing which we now see before our eyes, is thy finger,
" and a true miracle ; and' forasmuch as we learn in
" our books, that tlwu never workest miracles, but to a
" divine and excellent end, for the laivs of nature are
" thine own latvs, and thou exceedest them not but upon
" great cause, ive most humbly beseech thee to prosper
" this great sign, and to give us the interpretation and
" use of it in mercy ; which thou dost in some part
" secretly promise by sending it unto us.

" When he had made his prayer, he presently
" found the boat he was in moveable and unbound ;
" whereas all the rest remained still fast ; and taking
" that for an assurance of leave to approach, he caused
ee the boat to be softly and with silence rowed to-
" wards the pillar. But ere he came near it, the
" pillar and cross of light brake up, and cast itself
fc abroad, as it were into a firmament of many stars ;
fc which also vanished soon after, apd there was no-
*' thing left to be seen but a small ark or chest of
f( cedar, dry, and not wet at all with water, though it
(e swam. And in the fore-end of it which was to-
" wards him, grew a small green branch of palm ;
" and when the wise man had taken it with all re-
" verence into his boat, it opened of itself, and there
*c were found in it a book and a letter ; both written
" in fine parchment, and wrapped in sindons of linen.
" The book contained all the canonical books of the
" Old and New Testament, according as you have
" them, for we know well what the churches with
" you receive, and the Apocalypse itself: and some
<c other books of the New Testament, which were
" not at that time written, were nevertheless in the
•" book : and for the letter it was in these words :

" / Bartholomew, a servant of the Highest, and
f< Apostle of Jesus Christ, ivas warned by an angel that
ft appeared to me in a vision of glory, that I should

New Atlantis.

" commit this ark to the floods of the sea. 'Therefore I
" do testify and declare, unto that people zchere God
*c shall ordain this ark to come to land, that in the same
<c day is come unto them salvation, and peace, and good-
" will, from the Father, and from the Lord Jesus.

" There was also in both these writings, as well the
" book as the letter, wrought a great miracle, con-
" form to that of the Apostles in the original gift of
*f tongues. For there being at that time in this land,
<c Hebrews, Persians, and Indians, besides the na-
" tives, every one read the book and letter, as if they
" had been written in his own language. And thus
%< was this land saved from infidelity, as the remain
<f of the old world was from water, by an ark, through
*c the apostolical and miraculous evangelism of St.
" Bartholomew." And here he paused, and a mes-
senger came, and called him from us. So this was all
that passed in that conference.

The next day the same governor came again to us
immediately after dinner, and excused himself, saying;
" that the day before he was called from us, some-
" what abruptly, but now he would make us amends,
" and spend time with us, if we held his company and
" conference agreeable :" we answered, " that we
" held it so agreeable and pleasing to us, as we forgot
" both dangers past and fears to come, for the time
" we heard him speak ; and that we thought an hour
**' spent with him, was worth years of our former
" life.*' He bowed himself a little to us, and after
we were set again, he said ; " Well, the questions are
on your part.'* One of our number said, after a little
pause ; " that there was a matter we were no less de-
" sirous to know, than fearful to ask, lest we might
" presume too far. (But encouraged by his rare hu-
" manity towards us, that could scarce think our-
" selves strangers, being his vowed and professed
" servants, we would take the hardiness to propound
" it : humbly beseeching him, if he thought it not
" fit to be answered, that he would pardon it, though
" he rejected it." We said ; " we well observed those
" his words, which he formerly spake, that this happy

New Atlantis. . 93

" island where we now stood, was known to few,
" and yet knew most of the nations of the world ;
" which we found to be true, considering they had
" the languages of Europe, and knew much of our
" state and business; and yet we in Europe, not-
" withstanding all the remote discoveries and navi-
" gations of this last age, never heard any the least
" inkling or glimpse of this island. This we found
" wonderful strange : for that all nations have inter-
" knowledge one of another, either by voyage into
cc foreign parts, or by strangers that come to them :
cc and though the traveller into a foreign country
*f doth commonly know more by the eye, than he
" that stayeth at home can by relation of the tra-
" veller ; yet both ways suffice to make a mutual know-
<f ledge, in some degree, on both parts. But for this
" island, we never heard tell of any ship of theirs,
" that had been seen to arrive upon any shore of
" Europe; no, nor of either the East or West Indies,
" nor yet of any ship of any other part of the world,
" that had made return from them. And yet the
" marvel rested not in this. For the situation of it,
" as his lordship said, in the secret conclave of such
" a vast sea might cause it. But then, that they
" should have knowledge of the languages, books,
" affairs of those that lie such a distance from them,
" it was a thing we could not tell what to make of;
" for that it seemed to us a condition and propriety
" of divine powers and beings, to be hidden and un-
" seen to others, and yet to have others open, and as
" in a light to them." At this speech the governor
gave a gracious smile, and said ; " that we did well
" to ask pardon for this question we now asked ; for
" that it imported, as if we thought this land a land
" of magicians, that sent forth spirits of the air into
•" all parts, to bring them news and intelligence of
" other countries." It was answered by us all, in all
possible humbleness, but yet with a countenance
taking knowledge that we knew that he spake it but
merrily, " That we were apt enough to think there
*' was something supernatural in this island, but yet

New Atlantis.

" rather as angelical than magical. But to let his
" lordship know truly, what it was that made us
" tender and doubtful to ask this question, it was not
" any such conceit, but because we remembered, he
" had given a touch in his former speech, that this
" land had laws of secresy touching strangers." To
this he said ; " You remember it aright ; and there-
" fore in that I shall say to you, I must reserve some
<c particulars, which it is not lawful for me to reveal ;
<c but there will be enough left to give you satis-
" faction.

" You shall understand, that which perhaps you will
" scarce think credible, that about three thousand
<c years ago, or somewhat more, the navigation of
4C the world, especially for remote voyagers, was
" greater than at this day. Do not think with your-
" selves, that I know not how much it is encreased
" with you within these six-score years : I know it
<c well ; and yet I say greater then than now : whether
(f it was, that the example of the ark, that saved the
" remnant of men from the universal deluge, gave
" men confidence to adventure upon the waters, or
<c what it was, but such is the truth. The Phoenicians,
" and especially the Tyrians,had great fleets. So had
<c the Carthaginians their colony, which is yet farther
" west. Toward the east, the shipping of Egypt,
" and of Palestine, was likewise great. China also,
<c and the great Atlantis, that you call America,
" which have now but junks and canoes, abounded
" then in tall ships. This island, as appeareth by
" faithful registers of those times, had then fifteen
" hundred strong ships, of great content. Of all this,
" there is with you sparing memory, or none ; but
" we have large knowledge thereof.

" At that time, this land was known and frequented
*c by the ships and vessels of all the nations before
" named. And, as it cometh to pass, they had
" many times men of other countries, that were no
" sailors, that came with them ; as Persians, Chal-
" deans, Arabians, so as almost all nations of might
" and fame resorted hither ; of whom we have some

New Atlantis. 95

" stirps and little tribes with us et this day. And for
" our own ships, they went sundry voyages, as well
" to your Straits, which you call the pillars of Hercu-
" les, as to other parts in the Atlantic and Mediter-
" ranean Seas; as to Peguin, which is the same with
" Cambaline, and Quinzy, upon the Oriental Seas,
<c as far as to the borders of the east Tartary.

<c At the same time, and an age after, or more,
** the inhabitants of the great Atlantis did flourish.
" For though the narration and description which is
" made by a great man with you, that the descend-
" ants of Neptune planted there ; and of the magni-
" ficent temple, palace, city, and hill ; and the mani-
fc fold streams of goodly navigable rivers, which, as
" so many chains, environed the same site and tem-
" pie ; and the several degrees of ascent, whereby
" men did climb up to the same, as if it had been a
" scali call ; be all poetical and fabulous : yet so
" much is true, that the said country of Atlantis, as
" well as that of Peru, then called Coya, as that of
<( Mexico, then named Tyrambel, were mighty and
(f proud kingdoms, in arms, shipping, and riches : so
" mighty, as at one time, or at least within the
" space of ten years, they both made two great expe-
<c ditions, they of Tyrambel, through the Atlantic to
" the Mediterranean Sea ; and they of Coya, through
" the South Sea upon this our island : and for the for-
" mer of these, which was into Europe, the same
" author amongst you, as it seemeth, had some rela-
" tion from the Egyptian priest whom he citeth,
" For assuredly, such a thing there was, but whether
" it were the ancient Athenians that had the glory of
" the repulse and resistance of those forces, I can say
f< nothing : but certain it is, there never came back
Cf either ship, or man, from that voyage. Neither had the
" other voyage of those of Coya upon us had better for-
<f tune, if they had not met with enemies of greater
" clemency. For the king of this island, by name
" Altabin, a wise man, and a great warrior; know-
" ing well both his own strength, and that of his ene-
" mics ; handled the matter so, as he cut off their

New Atlantis.

cc land-forces from rheir ships, and entoiled both their

" navy and their camp, with a greater power than

" theirs, both by sea and land ; and compelled them

" to render themselves without striking stroke : and

<fc after they were at his mercy, contenting himself

" only with their oath, that they should no more bear

<c arms against him, dismissed them all in safety. But

" the divine revenge overtook not long after those

" proud enterprises. For within less than the space of

" one hundred years, the great Atlantis was utterly

" lost and destroyed : not by a great earthquake, as

" your man saith, for that whole tract is little subject

" to earthquakes, but by a particular deluge or inun-

<c dation : those countries having, at this day, far

" greater rivers, and far higher mountains, to pour

" down waters, than any part of the old world. But

" it is true, that t:he same inundation was not deep ;

" not past forty foot, in most places, from the ground:

" so that although it destroyed man and beast gene-

<e rally, yet some few wild inhabitants of the wood

" escaped. Birds also were saved by flying to the

" high trees and woods. For as for men, although

<c they had buildings in many places higher than the

" depth of the water ; yet that inundation, though it

" were shallow, had a long continuance; whereby

" they of the vale, that were not drowned, perished

<c for want of food, and other things necessary. So

" as marvel you not at the thin population of Ameri-

" ca, nor at the rudeness and ignorance of the people;

<c for you must account your inhabitants of America

" as a young people; younger a thousand years, at

" the least, than the rest of the world ; for that there

<c was so much time between the universal flood and

" their particular inundation. For the poor remnant

" of human seed, which remained in their mountains,

" peopled the country again slowly, by little and lit-

" tie ; and being simple and savage people, not like

" Noah and his sons, which was the chief family of

" the earth, they were not able to leave letters, arts,

" and civility to their posterity ; and having likewise

" in their mountainous habitations been used, in re-

New Atlantis. 97

" sped of the extreme cold of those regions, to clothe
" themselves with the skins of tigers, bears, and great
" hairy goats, that they have in those parts ; when
" after they came down into the valley, and found the
*c intolerable heats which are there, and knew no
" means of lighter apparel, they were forced to begin
" the custom of going naked, which continueth at
" this day. Only they take great pride and delight
" in the feathers of birds, and this also they took
" from those their ancestors of the mountains,who were
" invited unto it by the infinite flights of birds> that
" came up to the high grounds while the waters stood
" below. So you see, by this main accident of time,
" we lost our traffic with the Americans, with whom,
" of all others, in regard they lay nearest to us, we
" had most commerce. As for the other parts of the
" world, it is most manifest, that in the ages following,
" whether it were in respect of wars, or by a natural
" revolution of time, navigation did every where
" greatly decay; and especially far voyages, the ra-
*c ther by the use of galleys, and such vessels as could
cc hardly brook the ocean, were altogether left and
" omitted. So then, that part of intercourse which
" could be from other nations to sail to us, you see
" how it hath long since ceased ; except it were by
*' some rare accident, as this of yours. But now of
" the cessation of that other part of intercourse, which
" might be by our sailing to other nations, I must yield
" you some other cause. For I cannot say, if I
" shall say truly, but our shipping, for number,
" strength, mariners, pilots, and all things that ap-
" pertain to navigation, is as great as ever : and there-
" fore why we should sit at home, I shall now give
" you aivaccount by itself; and it will draw nearer
" to give you satisfaction to your principal question.
" There reigned in this island, about nineteen hun-»
" dred years ago, a king, whose memory of all others
" we most adore ; not superstitiously, but as a divine
" instrument, though a mortal man ; his name was
" Solomona : and we esteem him as the lawgiver qf
" our nation. This king had a large heart, inscrut-

VOL. II, H

Arer<; Atlantis.

" able for good, and was wholly bent to make his
" kingdom and people happy. He therefore taking
" into consideration, how sufficient and substantive
" this land was to maintain itself without any aid at
" all of the foreigner, being five thousand six hun-
" dred miles in circuit, and of rare fertility of soil, in
" the greatest part thereof; and finding also the ship-
" ping of this country might be plentifully set on
" work, both by fishing and by transportations from
" port to port, and likewise by sailing unto some small
" islands that are not far from us, and are under the
" crown and laws of this state ; and recalling unto
" his memory the happy and flourishing estate where-
" in this land then was ;. so as it might be a thousand
" ways altered to the worse, but scarce any one way
" to the better, thought nothing wanted to his noble
" and heroical intentions, but only as far as human
" foresight might reach, to give perpetuity to that,
" which was in his time so happily established.
" Therefore amongst his other fundamental laws of this
<f kingdom, he did ordain the interdicts and prohibi-
" tions, which we have touching entrance of stran-
" gers; which at that time, though it was after the
4C calamity of America, was frequent; doubting no-
i( velties, and commixture of manners. It is true, the'
" like law against the admission of strangers without
" licence, is an ancient law in the kingdom of China,
" and yet continued in use : but there it is a poor
*' thing ; and hath made them a curious, ignorant,
" fearful, foolish nation. But our lawgiver made his
6( law of another temper. For first he hath preserved
<c all points of humanity, in taking order, and making
" provision for the relief of strangers distressed,
" whereof you have tasted." At which speech, as
reason was, we all rose up and bowed ourselves.
He went on. .'^ That the king also, still desiring
" to join humanity and policy together ; and think-
" ing it against humanity to detain strangers here
" against their wills; and against policy that they
" should return, and discover their knowledge of
"- this estate, he took this course : he did, .ordain, that

New Atlantis.

'* of the strangers that should be permitted to land, as
" many, at all times, might depart as would'; but as
" many as would stay, should have very good condi-
"• tions, and means to live from the state. Wherein
"•he saw so far, that now in so many ages since the
" prohibition, we have memory, not of one ship that
" ever returned, and but of thirteen persons only, at
" several times, that chose to return in our bottoms.
" What those few that returned may have reported
(t abroad I know not : but you must think, whatso-
" ever they have said, could be taken where they
" came but for a dream. Now for our travelling from
" hence into parts abroad, our lawgiver thought fit
" altogether to restrain it. So is it not in China. For
*' the Chinese sail where they will or can ; which
" sheweth, that their law of keeping out strangers, is a
" law of pusillanimity and fear. But this restraint of
" ours hath one only exception, which is admirable ;
" preserving the good which cometh, by communi-
ft eating with strangers, and avoiding the hurt ; and
" I will now open it to you. And here I shall seem
" a little to digress, but you will by and by find it per-
" tinent. Ye shall understand, my dear friends, that
" amongst the excellent acts of that king, one above
" all hath the pre-eminence. It was the erection and
" institution of an order or society which we call So-
" lomon's House; the noblest foundation, as we think,
" that ever was upon the earth, and the lanthorn of
" this kingdom. It is dedicated to the study of the
" works and creatures of God. Some think it beareth
" the founder's name a little corrupted, as if it should
" be Solomona's House. But the records write it as it
" is spoken. So as I take it to be denominate of the
" King of the Hebrews, which is famous with you,
" and no stranger to us ; for we have some parts of
" his works, which with you are lost; namely, that
" Natural History which he wrote of all plants, from
" the cedar of Lib anus, to the moss that groweth out of
" the watt ; and of all things that have life and mo-
" tion. This maketh me think, that our king finding
" himself to symbolize in many things with that king

H2

IdO New Atlantis.

" of the Hebrews, which lived many years before
* him, honoured him with the title of this founda-
' tion. And I am the rather induced to be of this
' opinion, for that I find in ancient records this order
" or society is sometimes called Solomon's House, and
4 sometimes the college of the six days works;
4 whereby I am satisfied, that our excellent king had
" learned from the Hebrews, that God had created the
" world, and all that therein is, within six days ; and
" therefore he instituting that house for the finding"
u out of the true nature of nil things, whereby God
" might have the more glory in the workmanship of
" them, and men the more fruit in the use of them,
" did give it also that second name. But now to
" come to our present purpose. When the king had
" forbidden to all his people navigation into any part,
" that was not under his crown, he made nevertheless
" this ordinance; that every twelve years there should
' be set forth, out of this kingdom, two. ships ap~
" pointed to several voyages; that in either of these
" ships there should be a mission of three of the fel-
" lows or brethren of Solomon's House ; whose errand
" was only to give us knowledge of the affairs and
" state of those countries to which they were de-
" signed; and especially of the sciences, arts, manu-
" factures, and inventions of all the world ; and
" withal to bring unto us books, instruments, and pat-
" terns in every kind : that the ships, after they had
" landed the brethren, should return ; and that the bre-
" thren should stay abroad till the new mission.
" These ships are not otherwise fraught, than with
" store of victuals, and good quantity of treasure to
" remain with the brethren, for the buying of such
" things, and rewarding of such persons, as they
" should think fit. Now for me to tell you how the
" vulgar sort of mariners are contained from being dis-
" covered at land ; and how they that must be put on
*c shore for any time, colour themselves under the
" names of other nations; and to what places these
".voyages have been designed; and what places of
' ' -rendezvous are appointed for the new missions > and

Netv Atlantis, JOi

" the like circumstances of the practique; I may not
" do it : neither is it much to your desire. But thus
fc you see we maintain a trade, not for gold, silver, or
*e jewels; nor for silks; nor for spices; nor any other
" commodity of matter; but only for God's first crea-
" ture, which was light : to have light, I say, of the
" growth of all parts of the world/* And when he
had said this he was silent ; and so were we all. For
indeed we were all astonished to hear so strange
things so probably told. And he perceiving that we
were willing to say somewhat, but had it not r£ady, in
great courtesy took us off, and descended to ask us
questions of our voyage and fortunes, and in the end
concluded, that we might do well to think with our-
selves, what time of stay we would demand of the
state ; and bad us not to scant ourselves; for he would
procure such time as we desired. Whereupon we all
rose up, and presented ourselves to kiss the skirt of his
tippet, but he would not suffer us ; and so took his
leave. But when it came once amongst our people,
that the state used to offer conditions to strangers that
would stay, we had work enough to get any of our
men to look to our ship ; and to keep them from going
presently to the governor to crave conditions, But
with much ado we refrained them, till we might agree
what course to take.

We took ourselves now for free men, seeing there
was no danger of our utter perdition ; and lived most
joyfully, going abroad and seeing what was to be seen
in the city and places adjacent within our tedder;
and obtaining acquaintance with many of the city,
not of the meanest quality; at whose hands we found
such humanity, and such a freedom and desire to take
strangers as it were into their bosom, as was enough to
make us forget all that was dear to us in our own
countries : and continually we met with many things^
right worthy of observation and relation ; as indeed,
if there be a mirror in the world worthy to hold mens
•eyes, it is that country. One day there were two of
pur company bidden to a feast of the family, as they
call U. A most natural, pious, and reverend custom

102 New Atlantis.

it Is, shewing that nation to be compounded of all
goodness. This is the manner of it. It is granted
to any man, that shall live to see thirty persons des-
cended of his body alive together, and all above three ^
years old, to make this feast, which is done at the"
cost of the state. The father of the family, whom
they call the Tirsan, two days before the feast, taketh
to him three of such friends as he liketh to choose;
and is assisted also by the governor of the city, or place
where the feast is celebrated ; and all the persons of
the family of both sexes are summoned to attend him.
These two days the Tirsan sitteth in consultation con<-
cerning the good estate of the family. There, if there
be any discord or suits between any of the family,
they are compounded and appeased. There, if any
of the family be distressed or decayed, order is taken
for their relief, and competent means to live. There,
if any be subject to vice, or take ill courses, they are
reproved and censured. So likewise direction is given
touching marriages, and the courses of life which any
of them should take, with divers other the like orders
and advices. The governor assisteth, to the end to
put in execution, by his public authority, the decrees
and orders of the Tirsan, if they should be disobeyed;
though that seldom needeth ; such reverence and obe-
dience they give to the order of nature. The Tir-
san doth also then ever choose one man from amongst

O

his sons, to Jive in the house with him : who is called
ever after the Son of the Vine. The reason will here-
after appear. On the feast day, the father, or Tirsan,
cometh forth after divine service into a large room
where the feast is celebrated ; which room hath an
half pace at the upper end. Against the wall, in the
middle of the half pace, is a chair placed for him,
with a table and carpet before it. Over the chair is
a state made round or oval, and it is of ivy;
an ivy somewhat whiter than ours, like the leaf of
a silver asp, but more shining; for it is green all
winter. And the state is curiously wrought with
silver and silk of divers colours, broiding or bind-
ing in the ivy ; and is ever of the work of some of

New Atlantis.

the daughters of the family; and reiled over at
the top with a fine net of silk and silver. But the
substance of it is true ivy ; whereof, after it is taken
down, the friends of the family are desirous to have
some leaf or sprig to keep. The Tirsan cometh
forth with all his generation or lineage, the males
before him, and the females following him; and if
there be a mother, from whose body the whole line-
age is descended, there is a traverse placed in a loft
above on the right hand of the chair, with a privy
door, and a carved window of glass, leaded with gold
and blue; where she sitteth, but is not seen. When
the Tirsan is come forth, he sitteth down in the chair ;
and all the lineage place themselves against the wall,
both at his back, and upon the return of the half pace,
in order of their years, without difference of sex, and
* stand upon their feet. When he is set, the room be-
ing always full of company, but well kept, and with-
out disorder ; after some pause there cometh in from
the lower end of the room a taratan, which is as much
as an herald, and on either side of him two young
lads ; whereof one carrieth a scroll of their shining
yellow parchment ; and the other a cluster of grapes
of gold, with a long foot or stalk. The herald and
children are clothed with mantles of sea-water green
sattin j but the herald's mantle is streamed with gold,
and hath a train. Then the herald with three curte-
sies, or rather inclination^, cometh up as far as the
half pace ; and there first taketh into his hand the
scroll. This scroll is the king's charter, containing
gift of revenue, and many privileges, exemptions, and
points of honour, granted to the father of the family ;
and is ever stiled and directed, sc To such an one, our
" well-beloved friend and creditor :" which is a title
proper only to this case. For they say, the king is debtor
to no man, but for propagation of his subjects. The
seal set to the king's charter, is the king's image,
imbossed or moulded in gold ; and though such char-
ters be expedited of course, and as of right, yet they
are varied by discretion, according to the number and
dignity of the family. This charter the herald readeth

£r
Bi

104 New Atlantis.

aloud : and while it is read, the father or Tirsan
standeth up, supported by two of his sons, such as he
chooseth. Then the herald mounteth the half pace,
and delivereth the charter into his hand : and with
that there is an acclamation by all that are present in
their language, which is thus much : " Happy are
" the people of Bensalem." Then the herald taketh
into his hand from the other child the cluster of

;rapes, which is of gold both the stalk and the grapes.

~>ut the grapes are daintily enamelled ; and if the
males of the family be the greater number, the grapes
are enamelled purple, with a little sun set on the top;
if the females, then they are enamelled into a
greenish yellow, with a crescent on the top. The
grapes are in number as many as there are descend-
ants of the family. This golden cluster the herald de-
livereth also to the Tirsan ; who presently delivereth
it over to that son, that he had formerly chosen to be
in the house with him : who beareth it before his fa*
ther as an ensign of honour, when he goeth in public
ever after ; and is thereupon called the Son of the
Vine. After this ceremony ended, the father or Tir-
san retireth ; and after some time cometh forth again
to dinner, where he sitteth alone under the state as
before -, and none of his descendants sit with him, of
what degree or dignity soever, except he hap to be of
Solomon's house. He is served only by his own chil-
dren, such as are male ; who perform unto him all
service of the table upon the knee ; and the women
only stand about him, leaning against the wall. The
room below the half pace, hath tables on the sides
for the guests that are bidden ; who are served with
great and comely order ; and towards the end of din-
ner, which, in the greatest feasts with them, lasteth
never above an hour and an half, there is an hymn
sung, varied according to the invention of him that
composeth it, for they have excellent poesy, but the
subject of it is, always, the praises of Adam, and
Noah, and Abraham ; whereof the former two peo-
pled the world, and the last was the father of the
faithful: concluding ever with a thanksgiving for the

New Atlantis. 105

nativity of bur Saviour, in whose birth the Births of
all are only blessed. Dinner being done, the Tirsan
retireth again ; and having withdrawn himself alone
into a place, where he maketh some private prayers,
he cometh forth the third time to give the bjessing;
with all his descendents, who stand about him as at
the first. Then he calleth them forth by one and by
one, by name, as he pleaseth, though seldom the
order of age be inverted. The person that is called,
the table being before removed, kneeleth down be-
fore the chair, and the father layeth his hand upon his
head, or her head, and giveth the blessing in these
words : "Son of Bensalem, or daughter of Bensalem,
" thy father saith it ; the man by whom thou hast
" breath and life speaketh the word ; The blessing of
" the everlasting Father, the Prince of peace, and the
" Holy Dove be upon thee, and make the days of
-" thy pilgrimage good and many." This he saith to
every of them; and that done, if there be any of his
sons of eminent merit and virtue, so they be not above
two, he calleth for them again ; and saith, laying his
arm over their shoulders, they standing; " Sons, it is
" well ye are born, give God the praise, and perse-
" vere to the end/' And withal he delivereth to
either of them a jewel, made in the figure of an ear
of wheat, which they ever after wear in the front of
their turban or hat. This done, thev fall to music
and dances, and other recreations, after their man-
ner, for the rest of the day. This is the full order of
that feast.

By that time six or seven days were spent, I was
fallen into strait acquaintance with a merchant of that
city, whose name was Joabin. He was a Jew, and
circumcised : for they have some few stirps of Jews
yet remaining among them, whom they leave to their
own religion : which they may the better do, be-
cause they are of a far differing disposition from the
Jews in other parts. For whereas they hate the name
of Christ, and have a secret inbred rancour against the
people amongst whom they live : these, contrariwise,
give unto our Saviour many high attributes, and love

106 Nad Atlantis.

the nation of Bcnsalem extremely. Surely this man
of whom I speak, would ever acknowledge that
Christ was born of a virgin : and that he was more
than a man ; and he would tell how God made him
ruler of the seraphims which guard his throne ; and
they call him also the milken way, and the Eliah of the
Messias; and many other high names ; which though
they be inferior to his divine Majesty, yet they are
far from the language of other Jews. And for the
country of Bensalem, this man would make no end of
commending it: being desirous by tradition among
the Jews there, to have it believed, that the people
thereof were of the generations of Abraham, by an-
other son, whom they call Nachoran ; and that Mo-
ses, by a secret cabala, ordained the laws of Bensa-
lem which they now use ; and that when the Messias
should come, and sit in his throne at Hieursalem, the
king of Bensalem should sit at his feet, whereas other
kings should keep a great distance. But yet setting
aside these Jewish dreams, the man wras a wise man,
and learned, and of great policy, and excellently seen
in the laws and customs of that nation. Amongst
other discourses, one day I told him 1 was much af-
fected with the relation I had from some of the com-
pany, of their custom in holding the feast of the
family; for that, methought, I had never heard of a
solemnity wherein nature did so much preside. And
because propagation of families proceedcth from the
Kuptial copulation, I desired to know of him, what
laws and customs they had concerning marriage ; and
whether they kept marriage well ; and whether they
were tied to one wife ? For that where population is
so much affected, and such as with them it seemed
to be, there is commonly permission of plurality of
wives. To this he said, " You have reason for to
" commend that excellent institution of the feast of
" the family , and indeed we have experience, that
" those families that are partakers of the blessing qf
" that least, do flourish and prosper ever after in an
" extraordinary manner. But hear me now, and I
" will tell you what I know. You shall understand,

New Atlantis. \oi

" that there is not under the heavens so chaste a na-
" tion as this of Bensalem ; nor so free from all pol-
" lution or foulness. It is the virgin of the world. I
<c remember I have read in one of your European
t( books, of an holy hermit among you, that desired
" to see the spirit of fornication ; and there appeared
" to him a little foul ugly yEthiop ; but if he had de-
" sired to see the spirit of chastity of Bensalem, it
" would have appeared to him in the likeness of a
" fair beautiful cherubim. For there is nothing
" amongst mortal men more fair and admirable, than
" the chaste minds of this people. Know there-
" fore that with them there are no stews, no dissolute
c< houses, no courtesans, nor any thing of that kind.
" Nay, they wonder, with detestation, at you in Eu-
" rope, which permit such things. They say, ye have
" put marriage out of office : for marriage is ordained
« a remedy for unlawful concupiscence ; and natural
" concupiscence seemeth as a spur to marriage. But
" when men have at hand a remedy more agreeable
" to their corrupt will, marriage is almost expulsed.
" And therefore there are with you seen infinite men
" that marry not, butchuse rather a libertine and im-
6 pure single life, than to be yoked in marriage ; and
many that do marry, marry late, when the prime
and strength of their years is past. And when they
( do marry, what is marriage to them but a very bar-
gain ; wherein is sought alliance, or portion, or re-
( putation, with some desire, almost indifferent of
( issue ; and not the faithful nuptial union of man and
' wife, that was first instituted. Neither is it possible,
" that those who have cast away so basely so much of
c their strength should greatly esteem children, being
i of the same matter, as chaste men do. So likewise
" during marriage, is the case much amended, as it
' ought to be if those things were tolerated only for
' necessity ? No, for they remain still as a very at-
6 front to marriage. The haunting of those dissolute
" places, or resort to courtesans, are no more punished
" in married men than in bachelors. And the de-
" praved custom of change, and the deliglit in mere-

New Atlantis.

c trlcious embracements, where sin is turned Into art,
* jnaketh marriage a dull thing, and a kind of impo-
c sition or tax. They hear you defend these things,
€i as done to avoid greater evils ; as advoutries, de-
" flouring of virgins, unnatural lust, and the like. But
" they say, this is a preposterous wisdom ; and they call
" it Lot's offer, who to save his guests from abusing, ofc
' fered his daughters : nay, they say farther, that there
' is little gained in this ; for that the same vices and
c appetites do still remain and abound ; unlawful lust
( being like a furnace, that if you stop the flames al-
•" together it will quench ; but if you give it any vent
" it will rage. As for masculine love, they have no
" touch of it ; and yet there are not so faithful and
" inviolate friendships in the world again as are there ;
" and to speak generally, as I said before, I have not
" read of any such chastity in any people as theirs.
" And their usual saying is,That whosoever is unchaste
" cannot reverence himself: and they say, That the
" reverence of a man's self is, next religion, the chief-
" est bridle of all vices." And when he had said this,
the good Jew paused a little ; whereupon I, far more
willing to hear him speak on than to speak myself;
yet thinking it decent, that upon his pause of speech
I should not be altogether silent, said only this; "that
" I would say to him, as the widow of Sarepta said to
" Elias ; that he was come to bring to memory
" our sins ; and that I confess the righteousness of
" Bensalem was greater than the righteousness of Eu-
" rope." At which speech he bowed his head, and
went on in this manner :•" They have also many wise
" and excellent laws touching marriage. They allow
" no polygamy ; they have ordained that none do
" intermarry, or contract, until a month be passed
t( from their first interview. Marriage without con-
" sent of parents they do not make void, but they
" mulct it in the inheritors : for the children of such
" marriages are not admitted to inherit above a third
" part of their parent's inheritance. . I have read in a
•' book of one of your men, of a feigned common-
« wealth, where the married couple are permitted

New Atlantis. 109

" before they contract, to see one another naked.
** This they dislike ; for they think it a scorn to give
" a refusal after so familiar knowledge : but because
" of many hidden defects in men and womens bodies,
<c they have a more civil way ; for they have near
" every town a couple of pools, which they call Adam
" and Eve's pools, where it is permitted to one of the
" friends of the man, and another of the friends of
*c the woman, to see them severally bathe naked.

And as we were thus in conference, there came
Out one that seemed to be a messenger, in a rich
huke, that spake with the Jew : whereupon he turned
to me, and said ; " You will pardon me, for I am
" commanded away in haste." The next morning he
came to me again joyful, as it seemed, and said,
*c There is word come to the governor of the city,
" that one of the fathers of Solomon's House will be
" here this day seven-night : we have seen none of
" them this dozen years. His coming is in state;
" but the cause of his coming is secret. I will pro-
" vide you and your fellows of a good standing to
" see his entry.*' I thanked him, and told him, I
was most glad of the news. The day being come, he
made his entry. He was a man of middle stature and
age, comely of person, and had an aspect as if he
pitied men. He was clothed in a robe of fine black
cloth, with wide sleeves and a cape. His under gar-
ment was of excellent white linen down to the foot,
girt with a girdle of the same ; and a sindon or tippet
of the same about his neck. He had gloves that
were curious, and set with stone ; and shoes of peach-
coloured velvet. His neck was bare to the shoulders.
His hat was like a helmet, or Spanish Montera ; and
his locks curled below it decently : they were of
colour brown. His beard was cut round, and of the
same colour with his hair, somewhat lighter. He was
carried in a rich chariot without wheels, litter-wise,
With two horses at either end, richly trapped in blue
Velvet embroidered ; and two footmen on each side
in the like attire. The chariot was all of cedar, gilt,
and adorned with crvstal ; save that the fore-end had

no New 'Atlantis.

panncls of sapphires, set in borders of gold, and the
hinder end the like of emeralds of the Peru colour.
There was also a sun of gold, radiant upon the top, in
the midst ; and on the top before a small cherub of
gold, with wings displayed. The chariot was co-
vered with cloth of gold tissued upon blue. He had
before him fifty attendants, young men all, in white
sattin loose coats to the mid-leg, and stockings of
white silk ; and shoes of blue velvet ; and hats of
blue velvet ; with fine plumes of divers colours, set
round like hat-bands. Next before the chariot went
two men bare headed, in linen garments down to the
foot, girt, and shoes of blue velvet, who carried the
one a crosier, the other a pastoral staff, like a sheep-
hook ; neither of them of metal, but the crosier of
"balm-wood, the pastoral staff of cedar. Horsemen he
had none, neither before nor behind his chariot: as it
seemeth, to avoid all tumult and trouble. Behind his
chariot went all the officers and principals of the
companies of the city. He sat alone, upon cushions
of a kind of excellent plush, blue ; and under his foot
curious carpets of silk of divers colours, like the Per-
sian, but far finer. He held up his bare hand as he
went, as blessing the people, but in silence. The
street was wonderfully well kept; so that there was
never any army had their men stand in better battle-
array, than the people stood. The windows likewise
were not crouded, but every one stood in them as if
they had been placed. When the shew was past, the
Jew said to me ; " I shall not be able to attend you
" as I would, in regard of some charge the city
" hath laid upon me, for the entertaining of this great
" person." Three days after the Jew came to me
again, and said ; " Ye are happy men ; for the father
" of Solomon's House taketh knowledge of your
" being here, and commanded me to tell you, that he
" will admit all your company to his presence, and
" have private conference with one of you that ye
" shall choose : and for this hath appointed the next
" day after to-morrow. And because he meaneth to
" give you his blessing, he hath appointed it in the

Nezv Atlantis. 1 1 1

" forenoon." We came at our day and hour, and I
was chosen by my fellows for the private access. We
found him in a fair chamber, richly hanged, and
carpeted under foot, without any degrees to the state ;
he was set upon a low throne richly adorned, and a
rich cloth of state over his head, of blue sattin em-
broidered. He was alone, save that he had two pages
of honour, on either hand one, finely attired in white.
Jrlis under-garments were like what we saw him wear
in the chariot ; but instead of his gown, he had on him
a mantle with a cap, of the same fine black, fastened
about him. When we came in, as we were taught,
we bowed low at our first entrance ; and when we
were come near his chair, he stood up, holding forth
his hand ungloved, and in posture of blessing ; and
we every one of us stooped down, and kissed the hem
of his tippet. That done, the rest departed, and I re-
mained. Then he warned the pages forth of the
room, and caused me to sit down beside him, and
spake to me thus in the Spanish tongue :

" GOD bless thee, my son ; I will give thee the
i greatest jewel that I have. For I will impart unto
£ thee, for the love of God and men, a relation of
" the true state of Solomon's House. Son, to make
" you know the true state of Solomon's House, I will
" keep this order. First, I will set forth unto you the
" end of our foundation. Secondly, the preparations
" and instruments we have for our works. Thirdly,
" the several employments and functions whereto our
" fellows are assigned. And, fourthly, the ordinances
u and rites which we observe.

" THE end of our foundation is the knowledge of
" causes, and secret motions of things ; and the en-
<c larging of the bounds of human empire, to the
" effecting of all things possible.

" THE preparations and instruments are these.
" We have large and deep caves of several depths :
ic the deepest are sunk six hundred fathom ; and

New Atlantis*

" some of them are digged and made under great
" hills and mountains : so that if you reckon to-
" gether the depth of the hill, and the depth of the
" cave, they are, some of them, above three miles
" deep. For we find that the depth of an hill, and
" the depth of a cave from the flat, is the same thing ;
" both remote alike from the sun and heavens beams,
" and from the open air. These caves we call the
" lower region. And we use them for all coagu-
' lations, indurations, refrigerations, and conserva-
1 tions of bodies. We use them likewise for the
46 imitation of natural mines: and the producing also
" of new artificial metals, by compositions and ma-
" tetials which we use and lay there for many years.
" We use them also sometimes, which may seem
" strange, for curing of some diseases, and for pro-
" longation of life, in some hermits that choose to
" live there, well accommodated of all things ne-
«c cessary, and indeed live very long ; by whom also
" we learn many things.

" We have burials in several earths, where we put
" divers cements, as the Chinese do their porcellane.
" But we have them in greater variety, and some of
*c them more fine. We have also great variety of
" composts, and soils, for the making of the earth
" fruitful.

" We have high towers; the highest about half a

*e mile in height; and some of them likewise set upon

" high mountains; so that the vantage of the hill

" with the tower, is in the highest of them three

" miles at least. And these places we call the upper

" region: accounting the air between the high places

" and the low, as a middle region. We use these

' towers, according to their several heights and situa-

' tions, for insolation, refrigeration, conservation, and

c for the view of divers meteors ; as winds, rain,

' snow, hail, and some of the fiery meteors also.

* And upon them, in some places, are dwellings of

6 hermits, whom we visit sometimes, and instruct

" what to observe.

w We have great lakes both salt and fresh, where*

Netv Atlantic 113

" of we have use for the fish and fowl. We use them
*< also for burials of some natural bodies: for we find
" a difference in things buried in earth, or in air
" below the earth ; and things buried in water. We
" have also pools, of which some do strain fresh
" water out of salt ; and others by art do turn fresh
" water into salt. We have also some rocks in the
<( midst of the sea : and some bays upon the shore
" for some works, wherein is required the air and
cc vapour of the sea. We have likewise violent streams
<c and cataracts, which serve us for many motions :
cc and likewise engines for multiplying and enforcing
" of winds, to set also on going clivers motions.

" We have also a number of artificial wells and
" fountains, made in imitation of the natural sources
" and baths ; as tinctured on vitriol, sulphur, steel,
" brass, lead* nitre, and other minerals. And again,
" we have little wells for infusions of many things,
*c where the waters take the virtue quicker and better,
<c than in vessels or basons. And amongst them we
" have a water, which we call water of paradise,
** being, by that we do to it, made very sovereign
" for health and prolongation of life.

" We have also great and spacious houses, where
" we imitate and demonstrate meteors ; as snow, hail,
<c rain, some artificial rains of bodies, and not of
<c water, thunders, lightnings ; also generations of bo-
" dies in air ; as frogs, flies, and divers others.

" We have also certain chambers, which we call
" chambers of health, where we qualify the air as
" we think good and proper for the cure of divers
" diseases, and preservation of health.

" We have also fair and large baths, of several
" mixtures, for the cure of diseases, and the restoring
" of man's body from are faction : and others, for the
" confirming of it in strength of sinews, vital parts,
" and the very juice and substance of the body.

" We have also large and various orchards and

" gardens, wherein we do not. so much respect

c beauty, as variety of ground and soil, proper for

." divers trees and herbs: and some very spacious,

VOL. II. J

11* New Atlantis.

" where trees and berries are set, whereof we make
"divers kinds of drinks, besides the vineyards. In
" these we practise likewise all conclusions of graft-
*' ing and inoculating, as well of wild trees as of
*' fruit trees, which produceth many effects. And
" we make, by art, in the same orchards and gar-
<c dens, trees and flowers to come earlier or later than
ic their seasons; and to come up and bear more
" speedily than by their natural course they do. We
" make them also by art greater much than their na-
" ture ; and their fruit greater, and sweeter, and of
" differing taste, smell, colour, and figure, from their
" nature. And many of them we so order, as they
" become of medicinal use.

" We have also means to make divers plants rise
" by mixtures of earths without seeds ; and likewise
tc to make divers new plants, differing from the
" vulgar ; and to make one tree or plant turn into
" another.

" We have also parks and enclosures of all sorts of
" beasts and birds, which we use not only for view or
" rareness, but likewise for dissections and trials; that
" thereby we may take light what may be wrought upon
(( the body of man. Wherein we find many strange
" effects ; as continuing life in them, though divers
(e parts, which you account vital, be perished and
•" taken forth ; resuscitating of some that seem dead
cc in appearance ; and the like. We try also all poi-
tf sons and other medicines upon them, as well of
" chirurgery as physic. By art likewise, we make them
" greater or taller, than their kind is; and contrari-
cc wise dwarf them, and stay their growth : we make
" them more fruitful and bearing than their kind is ;
cc and contrariwise barren, and not generative. Also
" we make them differ in colour, shape, activity, many
"•ways. We find means to make commixtures and
" copulations of divers kinds, which have produced
*c many new kinds, and them not barren, as the ge-
" neral opinion is. We make a number of kinds of
*f serpents, worms, flies, fishes, of putrefaction ;
" whereof some are advanced in effect to be perfect

New Atlantis. 115

cc creatures, like beasts, or birds; and have sexes, and
*' do propagate. Neither do we this by chance, but
" we know beforehand, of what matter and com-
*c mixture, what kind of those creatures will arise.

" We have also particular pools, where we make
cc trials upon fishes, as we have said before of beasts
" and birds.

" We have also places for breed and generation of
fc those kinds of worms, and flies, which are of spe-
" cial use ; such as are with you your silk-worms and
" bees.

" I will not hold you long with recounting of
cc our brew-houses, bake-houses, and kitchens, where
" are made divers drinks, breads, and meats, rare, and
" of special effects. Wines we have of grapes ; and
" drinks of other juice, of fruits, of grains, and of
(t roots : and of mixtures with honey, sugar, manna,
" and fruits dried and decocted. Also of the tears
" or woundings of trees, and of the pulp of canes.
" And these drinks are of several ages, some to the
" age or last of forty years. We have drinks also
*c brewed with several herbs, and roots, and spices ;
" yea, with several fleshes, and white meats ; whereof
*' some of the drinks are such as they are in effect
" meat and drink both : so that clivers, especially in
" age, do desire to live with them, with little or no
<c meat, or bread. And above all, we strive to have
*' drinks of extreme thin parts, to insinuate into the
" body, and yet without all biting, sharpness, or fret-
** ting ; insomuch as some of them put upon the back
" of your hand, will, with a little stay, pass through to
" the palm, and yet taste mild to the mouth. We
" have also waters which we ripen in that fashion as
<c they become nourishing ; so that they are indeed
" excellent drink; and many will use no other.
16 Breads we have of several grains, roots, and ker-
" nels: yea, and some of flesh, and fish dried; with
<c divers kinds of leavenings and seasonings ; so that
<c some do extremely move appetites; some do nou-
^ rish so, as divers do live on them, without any other
" meat; who liye very long. So for meats, we have

12

116 New Atlantis.

cc some of them so beaten, and made tender, and
" mortified, yet without all corrupting, as a weak heat

' of the stomach will turn them into good chylus, as
<c well as a strong heat would meat otherwise pre-
" pared. We have some meats also, and breads and
" drinks, which taken by men enable them to fast

' long after ; and some other, that used make the
(( very flesh of mens bodies sensibly more hard and
£c tough, and their strength far greater than otherwise
" it would be.

" We have dispensatories, or shops of medicines;
" wherein you may easily think, if we have such
" Variety of plants and living creatures more than you
" have in Europe, for we know what you have, the
(t simples, drugs, and ingredients of medicines, must
" likewise be in so much the greater variety. We
<f have them likewise of divers ages, and long fer-
" mentations. And for their preparations, we have
" not only all manner of exquisite distillations and se-
" parations, and especially by gentle heats and per-
" eolations through divers strainers, yea, and sub-
" stances; but also exact forms of composition,
" whereby they incorporate almost as they were na-
" tural simples.

" We have also divers mechanical arts, which you
" have not ; and stuffs made by them ; as papers,
" linen, silks, tissues; dainty works of feathers of
*' wonderful lustre ; excellent dyes, and many others:
" and shops likewise as well for such as are not
<e brought into vulgar use amongst us, as for those that
." are. For you must know, that of the things before
<c recited, many of them are grown into use through-
" out the kingdom ; but yet, if they did flow from
" our invention, we have of them also for patterns
" and principals.

(f We have also furnaces of great diversities, and
" that keep great diversity of heats; fierce and quick ;
€f strong and constant ; soft and mild; blown, quiet,
" dry, moist ; and the like. But above all, we have
"heats in imitation of the sun's and heavenly bodies
" heats, that pass divers inequalities/ and, as it were,

New Atlantis. 117

" orbs, progresses, and returns, whereby we produce
'* admirable effects. Besides, we have heats of dungs,
" and of bellies and maws of living creatures, and of
" their blood and bodies; and of hays and herbs laid
" up moist; of lime unquenched; and such like. In-
" struments also which generate heat only by motion.
" And farther, places for strong insolations: and
" again, places under the earth, which by nature or
" art, yield heat. These divers heats we use, as the
" nature of the operation which we intend requireth.

" We have also perspective houses, where we
" make demonstrations of all lights and radiations;
" and of all colours; and out of things uncoloured
" and transparent, we can represent unto you all se-
" veral colours: not in rain-bows, as it is in gems and
" prisms, but of themselves single. We represent
" also all multiplications of light, which we carry to
" great distance ; and make so sharp as to discern
" small points and lines : also all colorations of light:
" all delusions and deceits of the sight, in figures,
ic magnitudes, motions, colours : all demonstrations
" of shadows. We find also divers means yet un-
" known to you, of producing of light originally from
" divers bodies. We procure means of seeing objects
" afar off; as in the heaven and remote places ; and
fc represent things near as far off; and things afar off
" as pear ; making feigned distances. We have also
*' helps for the sight, far above spectacles and glasses
" in use. We have also glasses and means, to see
" small and minute bodies perfectly and distinctly ;
" as the shapes and colours of small flies and worms,
" grains, and flaws in gems, which cannot otherwise
" be seen ; observations in urine and blood, not
" otherwise to be seen. We make artificial rain-
" bows, halos, and circles about light. We repre-
" sent also all manner of reflexions, refractions, and
" multiplications of visual beams of objects.

" We have also precious stones of all kinds, many
" of them of great beauty, and to you unknown ;
" crystals likewise ; and glasses of divers kinds ; and
" amongst them some of metals vitrificatcd, and other

118 New Atlantic

" materials, besides those of which you make glass,
" Also a number of fossils, and imperfect minerals,
<f which you have not. Likewise loadstones of pro-
cc digious virtue ; and other rare stones, both natural
" and artificial.

" We have also sound-houses, where we practise
<c and demonstrate all sounds, and their generation.
<c We have harmonies which you have not, of quarter-
" sounds, and lesser slides of sounds. Divers instru-
<c ments of music likewise to you unknown, some
ce sweeter than any you have ; together with bells and
" rings that are dainty and sweet. We represent
" small sounds as great and deep ; likewise great
" sounds extenuate and sharp; we make divers
" tremblings and warblings of sounds, which in their
" original are entire. We represent and imitate all
" articulate sounds and letters, and the voices and
" notes of beasts and birds. We have certain helps,
" which set to the ear do further the hearing greatly.
" We have also divers strange and artificial echos,
cc reflecting the voice many times, and as it were
" tossing it : and some that give back the voice
" louder than it came ; some shriller, and some
" deeper ; yea, some rendering the voice differing in
" the letters or articulate sound from that they re-
" ceive. We have also means to convey sounds in
" trunks and pipes, in straight lines and distances.

rt We have also perfume-houses ; wherewith we
" join also practices of taste. We multiply smells,
" which may seem strange. We imitate smells,
" making all smells to breathe out of other mixtures
" than those that give them. We make divers imi-
" tations of taste likewise, so that they will deceive
" any man's taste. And in this house we contain
" also a confiture-house ; where we make all sweet-
" meats, dry and moist ; and divers pleasant wines,
" milks, broths, and salads, in far greater variety than
" you have.

" We have also engine houses, where are prepared
" engines and instruments for all sorts of motions.
" There we imitate and practise to make swifter mo-

New Atlantis.

tions than any you have, either out of your muskets,
or any engine that you have; and to make them,
and multiply them more easily, and with small
force, by wheels and other means: and to make
them stronger, and more violent than yours are ;
exceeding your greatest cannons and basilisks.
We represent also ordnance and instruments of
war, and engines of all kinds : and likewise new
mixtures and compositions of gun-powder, wild-
fires burning in water, and unquenchable. Also
fire-works of all variety both for pleasure and use.
We imitate also flights of birds ; we have some
degrees of flying in the air ; we have ships and
boats forgoing under water, and brooking of seas;
also swimming-girdles and supporters. We have
divers curious clocks, and other like motions of
return, and some perpetual motions. We imitate
also motions of living creatures, by images of men,
beasts, birds, fishes, and serpents ; we have also
a great number of other various motions, strange
for equality, fineness, and subtilty.
" We have also a mathematical house, where are
represented all inbtruments, as well of geometry, as
astronomy, exquisitely made.

<c We have also houses of deceits of the senses;
where we represent all manner of feats of juggling,
false apparitions, impostures, and illusions ; and
their fallacies. And surely you will easily believe,
that we that have so many things truly natural,
which induce admiration, could in a world of par-
ticulars deceive the senses, if we would disguise
those things, and labour to make them seem more
miraculous. But we do hate all impostures and
lies : insomuch as we have severely forbidden it to
all our fellows, under pain of ignominy and fines,
that they do not shew any natural work or thing,
adorned or swelling ; but only pure as it is, and
without all affectation of strangeness.
" These are, my son, the riches of Solomon's House.

" FOR the several employments and offices of our
fellows; we have twelve that sail into foreign

120 New Atlantis.

€€ countries, under the names of other nations, for our
'* own we conceal, who bring us the books, and ab^
^ stracts, and patterns of experiments of all other
fc parts. These we call merchants of light.

" We have three that collect the experiments which
" are in all books. These we call depredators.

" We have three that collect the experiments of
" all mechanical arts; and also of liberal sciences;
" and also of practices which are not brought into
" arts. These we call mystery-men.

" We have three that try new experiments, such as
" themselves think good. These we call pioneers or
" miners.

" We have three that draw the experiments of the
" former four into titles, and tables, to give the better
" light for the drawing of observations and axioms
" out of them. These we call compilers.

" We have three that bend themselves, looking
*' into the experiments of their fellows, and cast
" about how to draw out of them things of use and
" practice for man's life and knowledge, as well for
<c works, as for plain demonstration of causes, means
" of natural divinations, and the easy and clear dis-r
" covery of the virtues and parts of bodies. These
" we call dowry-men or benefactors.

" Then after divers meetings and consults of our
" whole number, to consider of the former labours
*' and collections, we have three that take care, out
" of them, to direct new experiments, of a higher
" light, more penetrating into nature than the former.
" These we call lamps.

" We have three others that do execute the experi-
" ments so directed, and report them. These we
" call inoculators.

" Lastly, we have three that raise the former dis-
" coveries by experiments into greater observations,
" axioms, and aphorisms. These we call interpreters
f* of nature.

" We have also, as you must think, novices and ap-
*' prentices, that the succession of the former eirir
?' ployed men do not fail: besides a great number

Netv Atlantis. 121

" of servants, and attendants, men and women. And
" this we do also : we have consultations, which of
." the inventions and experiences which we have dis-
" covered shall be published, and which not : and
" take all an oath of secresy, for the concealing of
" those which we think fit to keep secret : though
" some of those we do reveal sometimes to the state,
" and some not.

" FOR our ordinances and rites : we have two very
" long and fair galleries: in one of these we place
fe patterns and samples of all manner of the more rare
" and excellent inventions : in the other we place the
" statues of all principal inventors. There we have
" the statue of your Columbus, that discovered the
" West Indies : also the inventor of ships : your monk
*' that was the inventor of ordnance, and of gunpow-
fs der : the inventor of music : the inventor of letters :
" the inventor of printing : the inventor of observa-
<c tions of astronomy : the inventor of works in metal :
" the inventor of glass : the inventor of silk of the
(i worm : the inventor of wine : the inventor of corn
*' and bread : the inventor of sugars : and all these by
c more certain tradition than you have. Then have
" we divers inventors of our own of excellent works ;
<e which since you have not seen, it were too long to
" make descriptions of them ; and besides, in the
c right understanding of those descriptions, you
" might easily err. For upon every invention of va-
" lue we erect a statue to the inventor, and give him
" a liberal and honourable reward. These statues
<c are, some of brass ; some of marble and touch-
<c stone ; some of cedar, and other special woods giit
cc and adorned : some of iron ; some of silver ; some
" of gold.

" WE have certain hymns and services which we
c£ say daily, of laud and thanks to God for his mar-
tf vellous works : and forms of prayers, imploring his
" aid and blessing for the illumination of our labours ;
u and the turning of them into good and holy uses.

" Lastly, we have circuits or visits of divers prin-
?f cipal cities of the kingdom -, where, as it cometh

122 New Atlantis.

" to pass, we do publish such new profitable in-
*f ventions as we think good. And we do also de-
" clare natural divinations of diseases, plagues,
" swarms of hurtful creatures, scarcity, tempests,
" earthquakes, great inundations, comets, tempera-
" ture of the year, and divers other things ; and we
" give counsel thereupon what the people shall do for
" the prevention and remedy of them/'

AND when he had said this, he stood up ; and I, as
I had been taught, kneeled down ; and he laid his
right hand upon my head, and said ; (i God bless
*' thee, my son, and God bless this relation which I
" have made. I give thee leave to publish it for the
" good of other nations ; for we here are in God's bo-
" som, a land unknown." And so he left me ; having
assigned a value of about two thousand ducats, for a
bounty to me and my fellows. For they give great
largesses where they come upon all occasions.

The rest was not perfected*

123

MR. BACON

IN PRAISE OF KNOWLEDGE.

SlLENCE were the best celebration of that, which
I mean to commend ; for who would not use silence,
where silence is not made ? and what crier can make
silence in such a noise and tumult of vain and popular
opinions? My praise shall be dedicated to the mind
itself. The mind is the man, and the knowledge of
the mind. A man is but what he knoweth. The
mind itself is but an accident to knowledge ; for know-
ledge is a double of that which is. The truth of be-
ing, and the truth of knowing, is all one. And the
pleasures of the affections greater than the pleasures of
the senses. And are not the pleasures of the intel-
lect greater than the pleasures of the affections ? Is
it not a true and only natural pleasure, whereof there
is no satiety ? Is it not knowledge that doth alone
clear the mind of all perturbations? How many
things are there which we imagine not ? How many
things do we esteem and value otherwise than they
are ? This ill proportioned estimation, these vain
imaginations, these be the clouds of error that turn
into the storms of perturbation. Is there any such
happiness as for a man's mind to be raised above the
confusion of things; where he may have the prospect
of the order of nature, and the error of men? Is this
but a vein only of delight, and not of discovery ? of
contentment, and not of benefit ? Shall we not as
well discern the riches of nature's warehouse, as the
benefit of her shop ? Is truth ever barren ? Shall he
not be able thereby to produce worthy effects, and to
endow the life of man with infinite commodities? But
shall I make this garland to be put upon a wrong head ?
"Would any body believe me, if I should verify this,

In Praise of Knowledge*

upon the knowledge that is now in use ? Are we the
richer by one pqor invention, by reason of all the
learning that hath been these many hundred years?
The industry of artificers maketh some small improve-
ment of things invented 5 and chance sometimes in ex-
perimenting, maketh us to stumble upon somewhat
which is new : but all the disputation of the learned
never brought to light one effect of nature before un-
known. When things are known and found out,
then they can descant upon them, they can knit them
into certain causes, they can reduce them to their prin-
ciples. If any instance of experience stand against
them, they can range it in order by some distinctions.
But all this is but a web of the wit, it can work no-
thing. I do not doubt but that common notions
which we call reason, and the knitting of them toge-
ther, which we call logic, are the art of reason and
studies. But they rather cast obscurity, than gain
Jight to the contemplation of nature. All the philo-
sophy of nature which is now received, is either the
philosophy of the Grecians, or that other of the alche-
mists. That of the Grecians hath the foundations in
words, in ostentation, in confutation, in sects, in
schools, in disputations. The Grecians were, as one
of themselves saith, you Grecians^ ever children. They
knew little antiquity ; they knew, except fables, not
much above five hundred years before themselves.
They knew but a small portion of the world. That
of the alchemists hath the foundation in imposture,, in
auricular traditions and obscurity. It was catching
hold of religion, but the principle of it is, Populus
vult decipi. So that I know no great difference be-
tween these great philosophers, but that the one is a
loud crying folly, and the other is a whispering folly.
The one is gathered out of a few vulgar observations,
and the other out of a few experiments of a furnace.
The one never faileth to multiply words, and the other
ever faileth to multiply gold. Who would not smile
:it Aristotle, when he admireth the eternity and in-
variableness of the heavens, as there were not the like
in the bowels of the earth ? Those be the confine*

In Praise of Knowledge. 125

and borders of these two kingdoms, where the con*
tinual alteration and incursion are. The superficies
and upper parts of the earth are full of varieties.
The superficies and lower parts of the heavens, which
we call the middle region of the air, is full of va-
riety. There is much spirit in the one part, that
cannot be brought into mass. There is much massy
body in the other place, that cannot be refined
to spirit. The common air is as the waste ground be-
tween the borders. Who would not smile at the astro-
nomers, I mean not these few carmen which drive the
earth about, but the ancient astronomers, which feign
the moon to be the swiftest of the planets in motion,
and the rest in order, the higher the slower; and so
are compelled to imagine a double motion : whereas
how evident is it, that that which they call a contrary
motion, is but an abatement of motion ? The fixed
stars overgo Saturn, and so in them and the rest, all is
but one motion, and the nearer the earth the slower.
A motion also whereof air and water do participate,
though much interrupted. But why do I in a confe-*
rence of pleasure enter into these great matters, in
sort that pretending to know much, I should forget
what is seasonable ? Pardon me, it was because all
things may be endowed and adorned with speeches,
but knowledge itself is more beautiful than any ap-
parel of words that can be put upon it. And let not
me seem arrogant without respect to these great re-
puted authors. Let me so give every man his due,
as I give Time his due, which is to discover truth.
Many of these men had greater wits, far above mine
own, and so are many in the universities of Europe
at this day. But alas, they learn nothing there but
to believe : first to believe that others know that
which they know not ; and after themselves know
that which they know not. But indeed facility to
believe, impatience to doubt, temerity to answer,
glory to know, doubt to contradict, end to gain,
§loth to search, seeking things in words, resting in
part of nature ; these, and the like, have been the
things which have forbidden the happy match be«

126 In Praise of Knowledge.

tween the mind of man and the nature of things ; and
in place thereof have married it to vain notions and
blind experiments : and what the posterity and issue
of so honourable a match may be, it is not hard to consi-
der. , Printing, a gross invention ; artillery, a thing
that lay not far out of the way ; the needle, a thing
partly known before : what a change have these three
made in the world in these times ; the one in the state
of learning, the other in the state ot war, the third in
the state of treasure, commodities, and navigation ?
And those, I say, were but stumbled upon and
lighted upon by chance. Therefore, no doubt, the
sovereignty of man lieth hid in knowledge; wherein
many things are reserved, which kings with their
treasure cannot buy, nor with their force command ;
their spials and intelligencers can give no news of
them, their seamen and discoverers cannot sail where
they grow: now we govern nature in opinions, but
we are thrall unto her in necessity ; but if we would
be led by her in invention, we should command her
inaction.

VALERIUS TERMINUS

OF THE

INTERPRETATION OF NATURE:

WITH THE
ANNOTATIONS OF HERMES STELLA.

A FEW FRAGMENTS OF THE FIRST BOOK,
[None of the Annotations of Stella are set down in these Fragments,]

CHAP. L

Of the limits and end of knowledge.

IN the divine nature, both religion and philosophy-
have acknowledged goodness in perfection, science or
providence comprehending all things, and absolute
sovereignty or kingdom. In aspiring to the throne
of power, the angels transgressed and fell ; in pre-
suming to come within the oracle or knowledge, man
transgressed and fell; but in pursuit towards the
similitude of God's goodness or love, which is one
thing, for love is nothing else but goodness put in
motion or applied, neither man or spirit ever have
transgressed, or shall transgress.

The angel of light that was, when he presumed
before his fall, said within himself, / will -ascend and
be like unto the Highest; not God, but the Highest.
To be like to God in goodness, was no part of his
emulation : knowledge, being in creation an angel
of light, was not the want which did ^most solicit
him ; only because he was a minister he aimed at a
supremacy ; therefore his climbing or ascension was
turned into a throwing down or precipitation.

Man on the other side, when he was tempted be-
fore he fell, had offered unto him this suggestion,
that he should be like. unto God. But how?-, not simply,

128 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

but in this part, knowing good and evil. For being iri
his creation invested with sovereignty of all inferior
creatures, he was not needy of power or dominion.
Bat again, being a spirit newly inclosed in a body of
earth, he was fittest to be allured with appetite of
light and liberty of knowledge. Therefore this ap-
proaching and intruding into God's secrets and mys-
teries, was rewarded with a further removing and
estranging from God's presence. But as to the good-
ness of God, there is no danger in contending or ad-
vancing towards a similitude thereof; as that which
is open and propounded to our imitation. For that
voice, whereof the heathen and all other errors of re-
ligion have ever confessed that it sounds not like man,
JLove your enemies ; be you like unto your heavenly Fa-
ther, that suffereth his rain to fall both upon the just and
the unjust, doth well declare, that we can in that
point commit no excess. So again we find it often
repeated in the old law. Be you holy as I am holy;
and what is holiness else but goodness, as we con-
sider it separate, and guarded from all mixture, and
all access of evil ?

Wherefore seeing that knowledge is of the number
of those things which are to be accepted of with cau-
tion and distinction ; being now to open a fountain
such as it is not easy to discern where the issues and
streams thereof will take and fall ; I thought it good
and necessary in the first place, to make a strong and
sound head or bank to rule and guide the course of
the waters; by setting down this position or firma-
ment, namely, That all knowledge is to be limited by
religion, and to be referred to use and action.

For if any man shall think, by view and inquiry into
these sensible and material things, to attain to any
light for the revealing of the nature or will of God ; he
shall dangerously abuse himself. It is true, that the
contemplation of the creatures of God hath for end, as
to the natures of the creatures themselves, knowledge ;
but as to the nature of God, no knowledge, but won-
der: which is nothing else but contemplation broken
offj or losing itself. Nay further, as it was aptly said

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 129

by one of Plato's school, the sense of man resembles the
sim, zv/u'ch opcneth and rerealcth the terrestrial globe,
but obscureth and conccalcth the celestial; so doth the
sense discover natural things, but darken and shut
up divine. And this appeareth sufficiently in that
there is no proceeding in invention of knowledge,
but by similitude ; and God is only self-like, having
nothing in common with any creature, otherwise than
as in shadow and trope. Therefore attend his will as
himself openeth it, and give unto faith that which
unto faith belongeth; for more worthy it is to believe,
than to think or know, considering that in know-
ledge, as we now are capable of it, the mind sufFereth
from inferior natures ; but in all belief it suffereth
from a spirit, which it holdeth superior, and more
authorised than itself.

To conclude ; the prejudice hath been infinite, that
both divine and human knowledge hath received by
the intermingling and tempering of the one with the
other; as that which hath filled the one full of
heresies, and the other full of speculative fictions and
vanities.

But now there are again, which, in a contrary ex-
tremity to those which give to contemplation an over-
large scope, do offer too great a restraint to natural
and lawful knowledge ; being unjustly jealous that
every reach and depth of knowledge wherewith their
conceits have not been acquainted, should be too high
an elevation of man's wit, and a searching and revelling
too far into God's secrets ; an opinion that ariseth
either of envy, which is proud weakness, and to be
censured and not confuted, or else of a deceitful sim-
plicity. For if they mean that the ignorance of a
second cause doth make men more devoutly to depend
upon the providence of God, as supposing the effects
to come immediately from his hand ; I demand of
them, as Job demanded of his friends, Will you life
for God, as man zvill for man to gratify him ? But if
any man, without any sinister humour, doth indeed
make doubt that this digging further and further into
the mine of natural knowledge, is a thing without

VOL. II. K

1 3O Of the Interpretation of Nature.

example, and uncommended in the Scriptures, or
fruitless ; let him remember and be instructed : for
behold it was not that pure light of natural know-
ledge, whereby man in paradise was able to give unto
every living creature a name according to his pro-
priety, which gave occasion to the fall; but it was an
aspiring desire to attain to that part of moral know-
ledge, which defineth of good and evil, whereby to
dispute God's commandments, and not to depend
upon the revelation of his will, which was the ori-
ginal temptation. And the first holy records, which
within those brief memorials of things which passed
before the flood, entered few things as worthy to
be registered, but only lineages and propagations, yet
nevertheless honour the remembrance of the inventor
both of music and works in metal. Moses again,
who was the reporter, is said to have been seen in all
the Egyptian learning, which nation was early and
leading in matter of knowledge. And Solomon the
king, as out of a branch of his wisdom extraordinarily
petitioned and granted from God, is said to have
written a natural history of all that is green, from
the cedar to the moss, which is but a rudiment be-
tween putrefaction and an herb, and also of all that
liveth and moveth. And if the book of Job be turned
over, it will be found to have much aspersion of na-
tural philosophy. Nay, the same Solomon the king
affirmeth directly, that the glory of God is to conceal
a thing, but the glory of the king is to find it out, as
if, according to the innocent play of children, the
divine Majesty took delight to hide his works, to the
end to have them found out ; for in naming the king
he intendeth man, taking such a condition of man as
hath most excellency and greatest commandment of
wits and means, alluding also to his own person, being
truly one of those clearest burning lamps, whereof
himself speaketh in another place, when he saith,
The spirit of man is as the lamp of God, wherewith he
se'archeth ail inwardness j which nature of the soul the
same Solomon holding precious and inestimable, and
therein conspiring with the affection of Socrates, who

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 131

scorned the pretended learned men of his time for
raising great benefit of their learning, whereas Anaxa-
goras contrariwise, and divers others, being born to
ample patrimonies, decayed them in contemplation,
delivereth it in precept yet remaining, Buy the truth and
sell it not ; and so of wisdom and knowledge.

And lest any man should retain a scruple, as if this
thirst of knowledge were rather an humour of the
mind, than an emptiness or want in nature, and an
instinct from God ; the same author defineth of it fully,
saying, God hath made every thing in beauty according
to season ; also he hath set the world in mans heart, yet
can he not find out the work which God worketlifrom the
beginning to the end : declaring not obscurely that God
hath framed the mind of man as a glass, capable of
the image of the universal world, joying to receive the
signature thereof, as the eye is of light; yea, not only
satisfied in beholding the variety of things, and vicis-
situde of times, but raised also to find out and discern
those ordinances and decrees, which throughout all
these changes are infallibly observed. And although
the highest generality of motion, or summary law of
nature, God should still reserve within his own cur-
tain ; yet many and noble are the inferior and secon-
dary operations which are within man's sounding.
This is a thing which I cannot tell whether I may so
plainly speak as truly conceive, that as all knowledge
appeareth to be a plant of God's own planting, so it
may seem the spreading and flourishing, or at least the
bearing and fructifying of this plant, by a providence
of God, nay, not only by a general providence, but by
a special prophecy, was appointed to this autumn of
the world : for to my understanding, it is not violent
to the letter, and safe now after the event, so to in-
terpret that place in the prophecy of Daniel, where,
speaking of the latter times, it is said, Many shall pass
to and fro, and science shall be increased ; as if the open-
ing of the world by navigation and commerce, and the
further discovery of knowledge, should meet in one
time or age.

But howsoever that be, there are besides the autho-

K 2

132 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

rities of Scriptures before recited, two reasons of ex-
ceeding great weight and force, why religion should
dearly protect all increase of natural knowledge : the
one, because it leadeth to the greater exaltation of the
glory of God ; for as the Psalms and other Scriptures
do often invite us to consider, and to magnify the great
and wonderful works of God ; so if we should rest
only in the contemplation of those shews which first
offer themselves to our senses, we should do a like in-
jury to the majesty of God, as if we should judge of
the store of some excellent jeweller, by that only
which is set out to the street in his shop. The other
reason is, because it is a singular help and a preserva-
tive against unbelief and error: for, saith our Saviour,
Yon err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the power of
God; laying before us two books or volumes to study,
if we will be secured from error; first, the Scriptures
revealing the will of God, and then the creatures ex-
pressing his power ; for that latter book will certify
Us, that nothing which the first teacheth, shall be
thought impossible. And most sure it is, and a true
conclusion of experience, that a little natural philoso-
phy inclineth the mind to atheism, but a further pro-
ceeding bringeth the mind back to religion.

To conclude then : Let no man presume to check
the liberality of God's gifts, who, as was said, hath set
the ivorld in mans heart. So as whatsoever is not
God, but parcel of the world, he hath fitted it to the
comprehension of man's mind, if man will open and
dilate the powers of his understanding as he may.

But yet evermore it must be remembered, that the
least part of knowledge passed to man by this so
large a charter from God, must be subject to that use
for which God hath granted it, which is the benefit
and relief of the state and society of man ; for other-
wise all manner of knowledge becometh malign and
serpentine, and therefore, as carrying the quality of the
serpent's sting and malice, it maketh the mjnd of
man to swell; as the Scripture saith excellently^
Ktiowledge bloioeth up, but charity buitdeth up. And
- again, the same author doth notably disavow both

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 133

power and knowledge, such as is not dedicated to
goodness or love ; for saith he, If I have all faith, so as
I co idd remove mountains , there is power active ; if I
render my body to the fire, there is power passive ; if I
speak with the tongues of men and angels, there is know-
ledge, for language is but the conveyance of know-
ledge, all were nothing.

And therefore it is not the pleasure of curiosity, nor
the quiet of resolution, nor the raising of the spirit, nor
victory of wit, nor faculty of speech, nor lucre of pro-
fession, nor ambition of honour or fame, or inable-
ment for business, that are the true ends of know-
ledge ; some of these being more worthy than other,
though all inferior and degenerate : but it is a restitu-
tion and reinvesting, in great part, of man to the so-
vereignty and power, for whensoever he shall be able
to call the creatures by their true names, he shall again
command them, which he had in his first state of crea-
tion. And to speak plainly and clearly, it is a disco-
very of all operations and possibilities of operations
from immortality, if it were possible, to the meanest
mechanical practice. And therefore knowledge,
that tendeth but to satisfaction, is but as a courtesan,
which is for pleasure, and not for fruit or generation.
And knowledge that tendeth to profit or profession,
or glory, is but as the golden ball thrown before Ata-
lanta; which while she goeth aside, and stoopeth to
take up, she hindereth the race. And knowledge re-
ferred to some particular point of use, is but as Har-
modius, which putteth down one tyrant : and not like
Hercules, who did perambulate the world to suppress
tyrants and giants and monsters in every part.

It is true, that in two points the curse is perempto-
ry, and not to be removed : the one, that vanity must be
the end in all human effects ; eternity being resumed,
though the revolutions and periods may be delayed.
The other, that the consent of the creature being now
turned into reluctation, this power cannot otherwise
be exercised and administered but with labour, as well
in inventing as in executing; yet nevertheless chiefly
that labour and travel which is described by the

134 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

sweat of the brows, more than of the body ; that is,
such travel as is joined with the working and discur-
sion of the spirits in the brain: for as Solomon saith
excellently, The fool putteth to more strength, but the
wise man considereth zv/iick way ; signifying the elec-
tion of the mean to be more material than the multi-
plication of endeavour. It is true also that there is a
limitation rather potential than actual, which is when
the effect is possible, but the time or place yieldeth
not the matter or basis whereupon man should work.
But notwithstanding these precincts and bounds, let it
be believed, and appeal thereof made to time, with
renunciation nevertheless to all the vain and abusing
promises of alchemists and magicians, and such like
light, idle, ignorant, credulous, and fantastical wits
and sects, that the new-found world of land was not
greater addition to the ancient continent, than there
remaineth at this day a world of inventions and
sciences unknown, having respect to those that are
known, with this difference, that the ancient regions of
knowledge will seem as barbarous, compared with the
new ; as the new regions of people seem barbarous,
compared to many of the old.

The dignity of this end, of endowment of man's
life with new commodities, appeareth by the estima-
tion that antiquity made of such as guided thereunto ;
for whereas founders of states, lawgivers, extirpirs of
tyrants, fathers of the people, were honoured but with
the titles of worthies or demi-gods, inventors were
ever consecrated amongst the gods themselves. And if
the ordinary ambitions ot men lead them to seek the am-
plification of their own power in their countries, and
a better ambition than that hath moved men to seek
the amplification of the power of their own countries
amongst other nations; better again and more worthy
must that aspiring be, which seeketh the amplification
of the power and kingdom of mankind over the
Xvorld : the rather, because the other two prosecutions
are ever culpable of much perturbation and injustice;
but this is a work truly divine, which cometh in aura

iy without noise or observation.

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 135

The access also to this work hath been by that port
or passsage, which the Divine Majesty, who is un-
changeable in his ways, doth infallibly continue and
observe ; that is, the felicity wherewith he hath bles-
sed an humility of mind, such as rather laboureth to
spell, and so by degrees to read in the volumes of his
creatures, than to solicit and urge, and as it were to
invocate a man's own spirit to divine, and give oracles
unto him. For as in the inquiry of divine truth, the
pride of man hath ever inclined to leave the oracles of
God's word, and to vanish in the mixture of their
own inventions; so in the self-same manner, in inqui-
sition of nature, they have ever left the oracles of
God's works, and adored the deceiving and deformed
imagery, which the unequal mirrours of their own
minds have represented unto them. Nay, it is a point
fit and necessary in the front, and beginning of this
work, without hesitation or reservation to be profes-
sed, that it is no less true in this human kingdom of
knowledge, than in God's kingdom of heaven, that
no man shall enter into it, except he become first as a
little child.

Of the impediments of knowledge.
Being the IVth chapter, the preface only of it.

IN some things it is more hard to attempt than to
atchieve; which falleth out, when the difficulty is not
so much in the matter or subject, as it is in the cross-
ness and indisposition of the mind of man to think of
any such thing, to will or to resolve it ; and therefore
Titus Livius in his declamatory digression, wherein
he doth depress and extenuate the honour of Alexan-
der's conquests, saith Nihil aliud quam bene aususvana
contenmere : in wrhich sort of things it is the manner
of men first to wonder that any such thing should be
possible, and after it is found out, to wonder again
how the world should miss it so long* Of this nature
I take to be the invention and discovery of know-
ledge, etc.

136 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

The impediments zchich have been in the times, and in
diversion of wits.

Being the Vth chapter, a small fragment in the be-
ginning of that chapter.

THE incounters of the times have been nothing
favourable and prosperous for the invention of know-
ledge, so as it is not only the daintiness of the seed to
take, and the ill mixture and unliking of the ground
to nourish or raise this plant, but the ill season also
of the weather, by which it hath been checked and
blasted. Especially in that the seasons have been
proper to bring up and set forward other more hasty
and indifferent plants, whereby this of knowledge
hath been starved and over-grown ; for in the des-
cent of times always there hath been somewhat else in
reign and reputation, which hath generally alienated
and diverted wits and labours from that employment.
For as for the uttermost antiquity, which is like
fame that muffles her head, and tells tales, I cannot
presume much of it; for I would not willingly imitate
the manner of those that describe maps, which when
they come to some far countries, whereof they have no
knowledge, set down how there be great wastes and
desarts there: so I am not apt to affirm that they
knew little, because what they knew is little known
to us. But if you will judge of them by the last
traces that remain to us, you will conclude, though
not so scornfully as Aristotle doth, that saith our an-
cestors were extreme gross, as those that came newly
from being moulded out of the clay, or some earthly sub-
stance ; yet reasonably and probably thus, that it was
with them in matter of knowledge, but as the dawning
or break of day. For at that time the world was al-
together home-bred, every nation looked little beyond
their own confines or territories, and the world had
no thorough lights then, as it hath had since by com-
merce and navigation, whereby there would neither
be that contribution of wits one to help another, nor
that variety of particulars for the correcting the cus-
tomary conceits.

Of the Interpretation of Nature.

And as there could be no great collection of wits of
several parts or nations, so neither could there be any
succession of wits of several times, whereby one might
refine the other, in regard they had not history to any
purpose. And the manner of their traditions was
utterly unfit and unproper for amplification of know-
ledge. And again, the studies of those times, you
shall find, besides wars, incursions, and rapines,
which were then almost every where betwixt states
adjoining, the use of leagues and confederacies being
not then known, were to populate by multitude of
wives and generation, a thing at this day in the waster
part of the West-Indies principally effected; and to
build, sometimes for habitation, towns and cities ;
sometimes for fame and memory, monuments, pyra-
mids, colosses, and the Jike. And if there happen
to rise up any more civil wits ; then would he found
and erect some new laws, customs, and usages, s\ich
as now of late years, when the world was revolute al-
most to the like rudeness and obscurity, we see both in
our own nation and abroad many examples of, as well
in a number of tenures reserved upon men's lands, as
in divers customs of towns and manors, being the de-
vises that such wits wrought upon in such times of
deep ignorance, etc.

The impediments of knowledge for want of a true suc-
cession of zvif$, and that hitherto the length of one
man's life hath been the greatest measure of know-
ledge.

Being the Vlth chapter, the whole chapter.

IN arts mechanical the first devise cometh shortest,
and time addeth and perfecteth. But in sciences of
conceit, the first author goeth furthest, and timeleeseth
and corrupteth. Painting, artillery, saiJing, and the
like grossly managed at first, by time accommodate
and refined. The philosophies and sciences of Aris-
totle, Plato, Democritus, Hippocrates, of most vigour
at first, by time degenerated and imbased. In the
former, many wits and industries contributed in one.

1 3 8 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

In the latter many men's wits spent to deprave the
wit of one.

The error is both in the deliverer and in the re-
ceiver. He that delivereth knowledge, desireth to
deliver it in such form as may be soonest believed,
and not as may easiiiest be examined. He that re-
ceiveth knowledge desireth rather present satisfaction
than expectant search, and so rather not to doubt than
not to err. Glory maketh the author not to lay open his
weakness : and sloth maketh the disciple not to know
his strength.

Then begin men to aspire to the second prizes, to
be a profound interpreter and commenter, to be a
sharp champion and defender, to be a methodical
compounder and abridger. . And this is the unfortu-
nate succession of wits which the world hath yet had,
whereby the patrimony of all knowledge goeth not
on husbanded or improved, but wasted and decayed.
For knowledge is like a water, that will never arise
again higher that the level from which it fell. And
therefore to go beyond Aristotle by the light of Aris-
totle, is to think that a borrowed light can increase the
original light from whom it is taken. So then, no
true succession of wits having been in the world ;
either we must conclude, that knowledge is but a task
for one man's life, and then vain was the complaint,
that life is short, and art is long : or else, that the
knowledge that now is, is but a shrub; and not that
tree which is never dangerous, but where it is to the
purpose of knowing good and evil ; which desire ever
riseth upon an appetite to elect, and not to obey, and
so containeth in it a manifest defection.

That the pretended succession of wits hath been evil
placed, for as much as after variety of sects and opi-
nions, the most popular and not the truest prevailetk
and wear eth out the rest.

Being the VII th chapter, a fragment.

IT is sensible to think, that when men enter first
into search and inquiry, according to the several

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 139

frames and compositions of their understanding, they
light upon different conceits, and so all opinions and
doubts are beaten over ; and then men having made
a taste of all, wax weary of variety, and so reject the
worst, and hold themselves to the best, either some
one, if it be eminent; or some two or three, if they
be in some equality ; which afterwards are received
and carried on, and the rest extinct.

But truth is contrary; and that time is like a river,
which c&meth down things which are light and blown
up, and sinketh and drowneth that which is sad and
weighty. For howsoever governments have several
forms, sometimes one governing, sometimes few,
sometimes the multitude; yet the state of knowledge
is ever a democrity, and that prevaileth which is most
agreeable to the senses and conceits of people. As for
example, there is no great doubt, but he that did put
the beginnings of things to be solid, void, and mo-
tion to the centre, was in better earnest than he that
put matte*, form, and shift; or he that put the mind,
motion, and matter. For no man shall enter into in-
quisition of nature, but shall pass by that opinion of
Democritus ; whereas he shall never come near the
other two opinions, but leave them aloof, for the
schools and table-talk. Yet those of Aristotle and
Plato, because they be both agreeable to popular
sense, and the one was uttered with subtilty and the
spirit of contradiction, and the other with a stile of
ornament and majesty, did hold out, and the other
gave place, etc.

Of the Impediments of knowledge, in handling it by
parfs, and in slipping off particular sciences from the
root and stock of universal knowledge.

Being the Vlllth chapter, the whole chapter.

CICERO the orator, willing to magnify his own
profession, and thereupon spending many words to
maintain that eloquence was not a shop of good
words and elegancies, but a treasury and receipt of
all knowledges, so far forth as may appertain to the

H-0 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

handling and moving of the minds and affections of
men by speech; maketh great complaint of the school
or Socrates; that whereas before his time the same
professors of v/isdom in Greece did pretend to teach
an universal sapience and knowledge both of matter
and words, Socrates divorced them, and withdrew
philosophy, and left rhetoric to itself, which by that
destitution became but a barren and unnoble science.
And in particular sciences we see, that if men fall to
subdivide their labours, as to be an oculist in physic,
or to be perfect in some one title of the law or the
like, they may prove ready and subtile, but not deep
or sufficient, no, not in that subject which they do
particularly attend, because of that consent which it
hath with the rest. And it is a matter of common
discourse, of the chain of sciences, how they are
linked together, insomuch as the Grecians, who had
terms at will, have fitted it of a name of Circle-
Learning. Nevertheless I that hold it for a great impe*
diment towards the advancement and further invention
of knowledge, that particular arts and sciences have
been disincorporated from general knowledge, do not
understand one and the same thing, which Cicero's
discourse and the note and conceit of the Grecians in
their word Circle-Learning do intend. For I mean
not that use which one science hath of another for or-«
nament or help in practice, as the orator hath of
knowledge of affections for moving, or as military
science may have use of geometry for fortifications ; but
I mean it directly of that use by way of supply of light
and information, which the particulars and instances
of one science do yield and present for the framing or
correcting of the axioms of another science in their
very truth and notion. And therefore that example
of oculists and title lawyers doth come nearer my con-
ceit Than " the other t\vo ; for sciences distinguished
••have-a.dependence upon universal knowledge to be
augmented.and rectified by the superior light thereof,
as* well as the parts and members of a science have
upon-the maxims of the same science, and the mu-
tual light .and 'Consent which one part receivcth pi; an-

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 1 4- i

other. And therefore the opinion of Copernicus in
astronomy, which astronomy itself cannot correct, be-
cause it is not repugnant to any of the appearances ;
yet natural philosophy doth correct. On the other
side, if some of the ancient philosophers had been
perfect in the observations of astronomy, and had
called them to counsel when they made their princi-
ples and first axioms, they would never have divided
their philosophy, as the cosmographers do their de-
scriptions by globes, making one philosophy for
heaven, and another for under heaven, as in effect
they do.

So if the moral philosophers, that have spent such an
infinite quantity of debate touching good and the
highest good, had cast their eye abroad upon nature,
and beheld the appetite that is in all things to receive
and to give ; the one motion affecting preservation,
and the other multiplication ; which appetites are
most evidently seen in living creatures, in the plea-
sure of nourishment and generation ; and in man do
make the aptest and most natural division of all his
desires, being either of sense of pleasure, or sense of
power ; and in the universal frame of the world are
figured, the one in the beams of heaven which issue
forth, and the other in the lap of the earth which takes
in : and again, if they had observed the motion of
congruity, or situation of the parts in respect of the
whole, evident in so many particulars : and lastly, if
•they had considered the motion, familiar in attraction of
things, to approach to that which is higher in the same
kind : when by these observations, so easy and con-
curring in natural philosophy, they should have found
out this quaternion of good, in enjoying or fruition,
effecting or operation, consenting or proportion, and
approach or assumption ; they would have saved and
abridged much of their long and wandering discourses
of pleasure, virtue, duty, and religion. So likewise
in this same logic and rhetoric, or acts of argument
and grace of speech, if the great masters of them would
but have gone a form lower, and looked but into the
observations of grammar concerning the kinds of

1 42 Of ihe Interpretation of Nature.

words, their derivations, deflexions and syntax, spe*
cially inriching the same with the helps of several
anguages, with their differing proprieties of words*
phrases, and tropes ; they might have found out more
and better footsteps of common reason, help of dispu-
tation, and advantages of cavillation, than many of
these which they have propounded. So again, a man
should be thought to dally, if he did note how the
figures of rhetoric and music are many of them the
same. The repetitions and traductions in speech, and
the reports and hauntings of sounds in music, are the
very same things. Plutarch hath almost made a book
of the Lacedemonian kind of jesting, which joined
ever pleasure with distaste. tc Sir," said a man of
art to Philip king of Macedon, when he controlled
him in his faculty, " God forbid your fortune should
" be such as to know these things better than I."
In taxing his ignorance in his art, he represented to
him the perpetual greatness of his fortune, leaving him
no vacant time for so mean a skill. Now in music it
is one of the ordinariest flowers to fall from a discord,
or hard tune, upon a sweet accord. The figure that
Cicero and the rest commend, as one of the best points
of elegancy, which is the fine checking of expecta-
tion, is no less well known to the musicians, when
they have a special grace in flying the close or ca-
dence. And these are no allusions but direct com-
munities, the same delights of the mind being to be
found not only in music, rhetoric, but in moral phi-
losophy, policy, and other knowledges, and that ob-
scure in the one, which is more apparent in the other;
yea, and that discovered in the one, which is not
found at all in the other; and so one science greatly
aiding to the invention and augmentation of an-
other. And therefore without this intercourse, the
axioms of sciences will fall out to be neither full nor
true; but will be such opinions, as Aristotle in some
places doth wisely censure, when he saith, " These
" are the opinions of persons that have respect but to
" a few things." So then we see, that this noteleadeth
us to an administration of knowledge in some such

Of the Interpretation of 'Nature. 1 43

order and policy, as the king of Spain, in regard of
his great dominions, useth in state : who though he
hath particular councils for several countries and af-
fairs, yet hath one council of state, or last resort, that
receiveth the advertisements and certificates from all
the rest. Hitherto of the diversion, succession, and
conference of wits.

That the end and scope of knowledge hath been generally
mistaken, and that men were never well advised what
it was tltcy sought.

Being the IXth chapter, immediately preceding the
Inventory, and inducing the same.

IT appeareth then how rarely the wits and labours
of men have been converted to the severe and original
inquisition of knowledge ; and in those who have
pretended, what hurt had been done by the affectation
of professors, and the distraction of such as were no
professors ; and how there was never in effect any
conjunction or combination of wits in the first and in-
ducing search, but that every man wrought apart, and
would either have his own way, or else would go no
further than his guide, having in the one case the ho-
nour of a first, and in the other the ease of a second ;
and lastly, how in the descent and continuance of
wits and labours, the succession hath been in the most
popular and weak opinions, like unto the weakest na-
tures, which many times have most children ; and in
them also the condition of succession hath been rather
to defend and to adorn, than to add ; and if to add,
yet that addition to be rather a refining of apart, than
an increase of the whole. But the impediments of
time and accidents, though they have wrought a ge-
neral indisposition, yet are they not so peremptory and
binding, as the internal impediments and clouds in
the mind and spirit of man, whereof it now folio we th
to speak.

The Scripture, speaking of the worst sort of error,
saith, Err are fecit eos in invio et non in via. For a man
may "wander in the way, by rounding up and down ;

144 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

but if men have failed in their very direction and ad-
dress, that error will never by good fortune correct
itself. Now it hath fared with men in their contem-
plations, as Seneca saith it fareth with them in their
actions, De part tints vit<c quisque deliberate de summa
nemo. A course very ordinary with men who receive
for the most part their final ends from the inclination
of their nature, or from common example and opi-
nion, never questioning or examining them, nor re-
ducing them to any clear certainty ; and use only to
call themselves to account and deliberation touching
the means and second ends, and thereby set them-
selves in the right way to the wrong place. So like-
wise upon the natural curiosity and desire to know,
they have put themselves in way without foresight or
consideration of their journey's end.

For I rind that even those that have sought know-
ledge for itself, and not for benefit, or ostentation, or
any practical inablement in the course of their life,
have nevertheless propounded to themselves a wrong
mark, namely, satisfaction, which men call truth, and
not operation. For as in the courts and services of
princes and states, it is a much easier matter to give
satisfaction than to do the business , so in the inquir-
ing of causes and reasons it is much easier to find out
such causes as will satisfy the mind of man, and quiet
objections, than such causes as will direct him and
give him light to new experiences and inventions.
And this did Celsus note wisely and truly, how that
the causes which are in use, and whereof the know-
ledges now received do consist, were in time minors
and subsequents to the knowledge of the particulars,
out of which they were induced and collected ; and
that it was not the light of those causes which disco-
vered particulars, but only the particulars being first
found, men did fall on glossing and discoursing of the
causes ; which is the reason, why the learning that
now is hath the curse of barrenness, and is courtesan-
like, for pleasure, and not for fruit. Nay, to compare it
rightly, the strange fiction of the poets of the trans-
formation of Scylla, seemcth to be a lively emblem of

Of the In terpretation of Natu re. 145

this philosophy and knowledge : a fair woman up-
\vard in the parts of show, but when you come to the
parts of use and generation, barking monsters; for no
better are the endless distorted questions, which ever
have been, and of necessity must be, the end and

womb of such knowledge •.

But yet nevertheless, here I may be mistaken, by
reason of some which have much in their pen the re*
ferring sciences to action and the use of man, which
mean quite another matter than I do. For they mean
a contriving of directions, and precepts for readiness
of practice, which I discommend not, so it be not
occasion that some quantity of the science be lost ;
for else it will be such a piece of husbandry, as to put
away a manor lying somewhat scattered, to buy in a
close that lyeth handsomely about a dwelling. But
my intention contrariwise is to increase and multiply
the revenues and possessions of man, and not to trim
up only, or order with conveniency the grounds
whereof he is already stated. Whereof the better to
make myself understood, that I mean nothing else
than words, and directly to demonstrate the point
which we are now upon, that is, what is the true end,
scope, or office of knowledge, which I have set down
to consist not in any plausible, delectable, reverend,
or admired discourse, or any satisfactory arguments,
but in effecting and working, and in discovery of par-
ticulars not revealed before, for the better endowment
and help of man's life ; I have thought good to make,
as it were a kalendar or inventory of the wealth, fur-
niture, or means of man, according to his present
estate, as far as it is known ; which I do not to shew
any universality of sense or knowledge, and much
less to make a satire of reprehension in respect of
wants and errors, but partly because cogitations new1
had need of some grossness, and inculcation to make
them perceived, and chiefly to the end, that for the?
time to come, upon the account and state now mad6
and cast up, it may appear what increase this new
manner of use and administration of the stock, if it
be once planted, shall bring with it hereafter; and

VOL. II. L

146 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

for the time present, in case I should be prevented
by death to propound and reveal this new light as I
purpose, yet I may at the least give some awaking
note, both of the wants in man's present condition,
and the nature of the supplies to be wished ; though
for mine own. part neither do I much build upon my
present anticipations, neither do I think ourselves yet
learned or wise enough to wish reasonably : for as it
asks some knowledge to demand a question not im-
pertinent; so it asketh some sense, to make a wish
not absurd.

The Inventory, or an enumeration and view, of Inven-
tions already discovered in use, together with a note
of the wants, and the nature of the supplies.

Being the Xth chapter ; and this a small fragment
thereof, being the preface to the Inventory.

THE plainest method, and most directly pertinent
to this intention, will be to make distribution of sci-
ences, arts, inventions, works, and their portions,
according to the use and tribute which they yield and
render to the conditions of man's life, and under those
several uses, being as several offices of provisions, to
charge and tax what may be reasonably exacted or
demanded, not guiding ourselves neither by the po-
verty of experience and probations, nor according to
the vanity of credulous imaginations; and then upon
those charges and taxations to distinguish and present,
as it were in several columns, what is extant and al-
ready found, and what is defective and further to be
provided. Of which provisions, because in many of
them, after the manner of slothful and faulty officers
and accomptants, it will be returned, by way of ex-
cuse, that no such are to be had, it will be fit to give
some light of the nature of the supplies, whereby it
will evidently appear, that they are to be compassed
and procured. And yet nevertheless on the other
side again, it will be as fit to check and controul the
vain and void assignations and gifts, whereby certain
ignorant, extravagant, and abusing wits have pre-

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 1 47

tended to indue the state of man with wonders, differ-
ing as much from truth in nature, as Csesar's com-
mentaries diffcreth from the acts of King Arthur, or
Huon of Bourdeaux, in story. For it is true that Cae-
sar did greater things than those idle wits had the
audacity to feign their supposed worthies to have
done ; but he did them not in that monstrous and fa-
bulous manner.

The chapter immediately following the Inventory.
Being the Xlth in order, a part thereof.

IT appeareth then, what is now in proposition, not
by a general circumlocution, but by particular note,
no former philosophy varied in terms or method ; no
new placet or speculation upon particulars already
known; no referring to action, by any manual of
practice ; but the revealing and discovering of new
inventions and operations. This to be done without
the errors and conjectures of art, or the length or dif-
ficulties of experience ; the nature and kinds of which
inventions have been described as they could be dis-
covered ; for your eye cannot pass one kenning with-
out further sailing : only we have stood upon the best
advantages of the notions received, as upon a mount,
to shew the knowledges adjacent and confining. If
therefore the true end of knowledge, not propounded,
hath bred large error, the best and perfectest condi-
tion of the same end, not perceived, will cause some
declination. For when the butt is set up, men need
not rove, but except the white be placed, men can-
not level. This perfection we mean, not in the worth
of the effects, but in the nature of the direction, for
our purpdse is not to stir up mens hopes, but to guide
their travels. The fulness of direction to work, and
produce any effect, consisteth in two conditions, cer-
tainty and liberty. Certainty is, when the direction
is not only true for the most part, but infallible. Li-
berty is, when the direction is not restrained to some
definite means, but comprehendeth all the means and
ways- possible \ for the poet saith well, Sapientibus

L 2

148 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

lindique late sunt .vi<e ; and where there is the greatest
plurality of change, there is the greatest singularity
of choice. Besides, as a conjectural direction maketh
a casual effect, so a particular and restrained direction
is no less casual than uncertain. For those parti-
cular means whereunto it is tied, may be out of your
power, or may be accompanied with an overvalue of
prejudice ; and so if for want of certainty in direc-
tion, you are frustrated in success, for want of variety
in direction, you are stopped in attempt. If therefore
your direction, be certain, it must refer you, and point
you to somewhat, which if it be present, the effect
you seek will of necessity follow, else may you per-
'form and not obtain. If it be free, then must it refer
you to somewhat, which if it be absent, the effect
you seek will of necessity withdraw, else may you
have power and not attempt. This notion Aristotle
had in light, though not in use. For the two com-
mended rules byNhim set down, whereby the axioms
of sciences are precepted to be made convertible, and
which the latter men have not without elegancy sur-
named, the one the rule of truth, because it prevc.nt-
eth deceit; the other the rule of prudence, because it
freeth election; are the same thing in speculation and
affirmation, which we now observe. An example
will make my meaning attained, and yet percase make
it thought that they attained it not.

Let the effect to be produced be whiteness; let the
first direction be, that if air and water be intermin-
gled, or broken in small portions together, whiteness
will ensue; as in snow, in the breaking of the ways
of the sea and rivers, and the like. This direction is
certain, but very particular; and restrained, being tied
but to air and water. Let the second direction be,
that if air be mingled as before with any transparent
'body, such nevertheless as is uncoloured and more
grossly transparent than air itself, that then, etc. as
glass or crystal, being beaten to fine powder, by the
interposition of the air becometh white ; the white of
an egg, being clear of itself, receiving air by agita-
tion, becometh white, receiving air by concoction be*

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 149

cometh white ; here you are freed from water, and
advanced to a clear body, and still tied to air. Let
the third direction exclude or remove the restraint of
an uncoloured body, as in amber, sapphires, eft.
which beateti to fine powder, become white in wine
and beer; which brought to froth, become white.
Let the fourth direction exclude the restraint of a body
more grossly transparent than air, as in flame, being
a body compounded between air and a finer substance
than air ; which flame if it were not for the smoke,
which is the third substance that incorporateth itself
and dieth, the flame would be more perfect white.
In all these four directions air still beareth a part.
Let the fifth direction then be, that if any bodies,
both transparent, but in an unequal degree, be min-
gled as before, whiteness will follow : as oil and
water beaten to an ointment, though by settling, the
air which gathereth in the agitation be evaporated,
yet remaineth white; and the powder of glass, or
crystal, put into water, whereby the air giveth place,
yet remaineth white, though not so perfect. Now
are you freed from air, but still you are tied to tran-
sparent bodies. To ascend further by scale I do for-
bear, partly because it would draw on the example
to an over-great length, but chiefly because it would
open that which in this work I determine to reserve ;
for to pass through the whole history and observation
of colours and objects visible, wrere too long a digres-
sion ; and our purpose is now to give an example of
a free direction, thereby to distinguish and describe
it ; and not to set down a form of interpretation how
to recover and attain it. But as we intend not now
to reveal, so we are circumspect not to mislead ; and
therefore, this warning being given, returning to our
purpose in hand, we admit the sixth direction to be,
that .all bodies, or parts of bodies, which are unequal
equally, that is, in a simple proportion, do represent
whiteness ; we will explain this, .though we induce it
not. It is then to be understood, that absolute equa-
lity produceth transparence, in-equality in simple order
tfr propcrtion produceth. whiten^ss,4nequality in com-

150 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

pound or respective order or proportion producerh
other colours, and absolute or orderless inequality
produceth blackness ; which diversity, if so gross a
demonstration be needful, may be signified by four
tables ; a blank, a chequer, a fret, and a medley ;
whereof the fret is evident to admit great variety.
Out of this assertion are satisfied a multitude of effects
and observations, as that whiteness and blackness are
most incompatible with transparence ; that whiteness
keepeth light, and blackness stoppeth light, but nei-
ther passeth it ; that whiteness or blackness are never
produced in rainbows, diamonds, crystals, and the
like; that white giveth no dye, and black hardly tak-
eth dye ; that whiteness seemeth to have an affinity
with dryness, and blackness with moisture; that adus-
tion causeth blackness, and calcination whiteness ;
that flowers are generally of fresh colours, and rarely
black, etc. all which I do now mention confusedly by
way of derivation, and not by way of induction.
This sixth direction which I have thus explained, is
of good and competent liberty, for whiteness fixed
and inherent ; but not for whiteness fantastical, or
appearing, as shall be afterwards touched. But first
do you need a reduction back to certainty or verity ;
for it is not all position or contexture of unequal bo-
dies that will produce colours ; for aqua fortis, oil of
vitriol, etc. more manifestly, and many other sub-
stances more obscurely, do consist of very unequal
parts, which yet are transparent and clear. There-
fore the reduction must be, that the bodies or parts of
boclies so intermingled as before, be of a certain gross-
ness or magnitude; for the unequalities which move
the sight must have a further dimension and quantity,
than those which operate many other effects. Some
few grains of saffron will give a tincture to a tun of
water, but so many grains ot civet will give a perfume
to a whole chamber of air. And therefore when De-
mocritus, from whom Epicurus did borrow it, held
that the position of the solid portions was the cause of
colours; yet in the very truth of this assertion he
should have added, that the portions are required tq

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 151

be of some magnitude. And this is one cause why
colours have little inwardness, and necessitude with
the nature and proprieties of things, those things re-
sembling in colour, which otherwise differ most, as
salt and sugar ; and contrariwise differing in colour,
which otherwise resemble most, as the white and blue
violets, and the several veins of one agate or marble,
by reason that other virtues consist in more subtile pro-
portions than colours do ; and yet are there virtues and
natures which require a grosser magnitude than co-
lours, as well as scents and divers other require a
more subtile; for as the portion of a body will give
forth scent, which is too small to be seen, so the por-
tion of a body will shew colours, which is too small to
be endued with weight : and therefore one of the pro-
phets with great elegancy describing how all creatures
carry no proportion towards God the creator, saith,
that all the nations in . respect of him are like the dust
upon the balance*, which is a thing appeareth, but
weigheth not. But to return, there resteth a further
freeing of this sixth direction ; for the clearness of a
river or stream sheweth white at a distance, and crys-
taline glasses deliver the face or any other object falsi*
fied in whiteness, and long beholding the snow, to a
weak eye, giveth an impression of azure, rather than
of whiteness. -So as for whiteness in apparition only,
and representation, by the qualifying of the light, al-
tering the intermedium, or affecting the eye itself, it
reacheth not. But you must free your direction to
the producing of such an incidence, impression, or
operation, as may cause a precise and determinate
passion of the eye, a matter which is much more easy
to induce than that which we have passed through ;
but yet because it hath a full coherence both with
that act of radiation, which hath hitherto been con-
ceived and termed so unproperly and untruly, by some,
an effluxion of spiritual species, and by others, an in-
vesting of the intermedium, with a motion which suc-
cessively is conveyed to the eye, and with the act of
sense, wherein I should likewise open that which I
think good to withdraw, I will omit.

152 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

Neither do I contend, but that this notion, which
I call the freeing of a direction in the received philo-
sophies, as far as a swimming anticipation could take
hold, might be perceived and discerned ; being not
much other matter than that which they did not only
aim at the two rules of axioms before remembered, but
more nearly also than that which they term the form
or rormal cause, or that which they call the true dif-
ference; both which nevertheless, it seemeth, they
propound rather as impossibilities and wishes, than
as things within the compass of human comprehen-
sion : for Plato casteth his burthen, and saith, that he
Zvill revere him as a God, that can truly divide and de-
Jine; which cannot be but by true forms and differ-
ences, wherein I join hands with him, confessing as
much, as yet assuming to myself little ; for if any man
can, by the strength of his anticipations, find out
forms, I will magnify him with the foremost. But as
any of them would say, that if divers things which
many men know by instruction and observation, an-
other knew by revelation, and without those meansj
they would take him for somewhat supernatural and
divine ; so I do acknowledge, that if any man can by
anticipations reach to that which a weak and inferior
wit may attain to by interpretation, he cannot receive
too high a title. Nay, I for my part do indeed admire
to see how far some of them have proceeded by their
anticipations ; but how ? it is as I wonder at some
blind men, to see what shift they make without their
eye-sight; thinking with myself that if I were blind,
1 could hardly do it. Again, Aristotle's school con-
fesseth, that there is no true knowledge but by causes,
no true cause but the form, no true form known ex-
cept one, which they are pleased to allow ; and there-
fore thus far their evidence standeth with us, that
both hitherto there hath been nothing but a shadow
of knowledge, and that wre propound now that which
is agreed to be worthiest to besought, and hardest to
be tound. There wanteth now a part very necessary,
not by way of supply, but by way of caution : for
as it is seen for the most part, that the outward tokens

Of the Interpretation of Nature.

and badge of excellency and perfection are more in*
cident to things merely counterfeit, than to that which
is true, but for a meaner and baser sort; as adubline
is more like a perfect ruby than a spinel, and a coun-
terfeit angel is made more like a true angel, than if it
were an angel coined of China gold; in like manner,
the direction carrieth a resemblance of a true direction
in verity and liberty, which indeed is no direction at
all. For though your direction seem to be certain
and free, by pointing you to nature that is unsepara-
ble from the nature you inquire upon ; yet if it do not
carry you on a degree or remove nearer to action,
operation, or light, to make or produce, it is but super-
ficial and counterfeit. Wherefore to secure and war-
rant what is a true direction, though that general
note I have given be perspicuous in itself, for a man
shall soon cast with himself, whether he beaver the
near to effect and operate or no, or whether he have
won but an abstract or varied notion, yet for better
instruction I will deliver three particular notes of
caution. The first is, that the nature discovered be
more original than the nature supposed, and not more
secondary, or of the like degree ; as to make a stone
bright, or to make it smooth, it is a good direction to
say, make it even; but to make a stone even it is no
good direction to say, make it bright, or make it
smooth: for the rule is, that the disposition of any
thing referring to the state of it in itself, or the parts,
is more original than that which is relative or transi-
tive towards another thing. So evenness is the dis-
position of the stone in itself, but smooth is to the
hand, and bright to the eye, and yet nevertheless they
all cluster and concur; and yet the direction is more
imperfect, if it do appoint you to such a relative, as is
in the same kind and not in a diverse. For in the di-
rection, to produce brightness by smoothness, al-
though properly it win no degree, and will never
teach you any new particulars before unknown, yet
by way of suggestion, or bringing to mind, it may
draw your consideration to some particulars known
but not remembered ; as you shall sooner remember-

Of the Interpretation of Nature.

some practical means of making smoothness, than if
you had fixed your consideration only upon brightness;
but it the direction had been to make brightness, by
making reflexion, as thus, make it such as you may
see your face in it ; this is merely secondary, and hclp-
eth neither by way of informing, nor by way of sug-
gesting. So if in the inquuy of whiteness you were
directed to make such a colour as should be seen fur-
thest in a dark light ; here you are advanced nothing
at all. For these kinds of natures are but properties,
effects, circumstances, concurrences, or what else you
shall like to call them, and not radical and formative
natures towards the nature supposed. The second
caution is, that the nature inquired be collected by
division before composition, or to-speak more pro-
perly, by composition subaltern, before you ascend to
composition absolute, etc.

Of the internal and profound errors and superstitions in
the nature of the mind, and of i he four sorts of idols
erections which offer themselves to the understand-
ing in the inquisition of knowledge.

Being the XVIth chapter, and this a small fragment
thereof, being a preface to the inward clenches
of the mind.

THE opinion of Epicurus, that the gods were of
human shape, was rather justly derided than seriously
confuted by the other sects, demanding whether every
kind of sensible creatures did not think their own
figure fairest,. as the horse, the bull, and the like,
which found no beauty but in their own forms, as in
appetite of lust appeared. And the heresy of the
Anthropomorphites was ever censured for a gross con-
ceit, bred in the obscure cells of solitary monks that
never looked abroad. Again, the fable so well known
of Quis pinxit leonem, doth set forth well, that there is
an error of pride and partiality, as well as of custom
and familiarity. The reflexion also from glasses so
usually resembled to the imagery of the mind, every
man knoweth to receive error and variety both in co-

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 155

lour, magnitude, and shape, according to the quality
of the glass. But yet no use hath been made of these
and many the like observations to move men to search
out, and upon search to give true cautions of the native
and inherent errors in the mind of man, which have
coloured and corrupted all his notions and impres-.
sions.

I do find therefore in this enchanted glass four idols,
or false appearances of several and distinct sorts, every
sort comprehending many subdivisions: the firsj: sort,
I call idols of the nation or tribe; the second," idols
of the palace; the third, idols of the cave; and the
fourth, idols of the theatre, etc.

Here followeth an abridgment of divers chapters of the
first book of the INTERPRETATION OF NATURE.

CHAP. XII.

THAT in deciding and determining of the truth
of knowledge, men have put themselves upon trials
not competent. That antiquity and authority, com-
mon and confessed notions, the natural and yielding
consent of the mind, the harmony and coherence of a
knowledge in itself, tfye establishing of principles
with the touch and reduction of other propositions
unto them, inductions without instances contradictory,
and the report of the senses, are none of them ab-
solute and infallible evidences of truth; and bring no
security sufficient for effects and operations. That the
discovery of new works or active directions not known
before, is the only trial to be accepted of; and yet not
that neither, in case where one particular giveth light
to another ; but where particulars induce an axiom or
observation, which axiom found out, discovereth and
designeth new particulars. That the nature of this
trial is not only upon the point, whether the know-
ledge be profitable or no, but even upon the point,
whether the knowledge be true or no. Not because,
you may always conclude, that the axiom which dis-
covereth new instances is true ; but contrariwise you
ipay safely conclude, that if it discover not any new

Of the Interpretation of Nature.

instance, it is vain and untrue. That by new instances
are not always to be understood new recipes, but new
assignations; and of the diversity between these two.
That the subtilty of words, arguments, notions, yea of
the senses themselves, is but rude and gross in compa-
rison of the subtilty of things. And of the slothful
and flattering opinions of those which pretended to
honour the mind of man in withdrawing and ab-
stracting it from particulars ; and of the inducements
and motives whereupon such opinions have been con-
ceived and received.

CHAP. XIII.

OF the error in propounding chiefly the search of
causes and productions of things concrete, which are
infinite and transitory; and not of abstract natures,
which are few and permanent. That these natures
are as the alphabet or simple letters, wherof the vari-
ety of things consisteth ; or as the colours mingled in
the painter's shell, wherewith he is able to make infi-
nite variety of faces or shapes. An enumeration of
them according to popular note. That at the first one
would conceive that in the schools by natural philo-
sophy were meant the knowledge of the efficients of
things concrete; and by metaphysic the knowledge of
the forms of natures simple ; which is a good and fit-
division of knowledge : but upon examination there
is no such matter by. them intended. That the little-
inquiry into the production of simple natures, sheweth-
well that works were not sought ; because by the for-
mer knowledge some small and superficial deflexions'
from the ordinary generations and productions may be
found out, but the discovery of all profound and radi-
cal alteration must arise out of the latter knowledge.

GHAP. XIV.

OF the error in propounding the search of the
materials,-" or dead begiririings or principles of things,
and not the nature of motions, inclinations, and ap-
plications. That the whole scope of the former'
search is impertinent and vain 3 both -because there

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 1

are no such beginnings, and if there were they could
not be known. That the latter manner of search,
which is all, they pass over compendiously and
slightly as a bye matter. That the several conceits
in that kind ; as that the lively and moving beginnings
of things should be shift or appetite of matter to
privation ; the spirit of thxrworld, working in matter
according to platform ; the proceeding or fructifying
of distinct kinds according to their proprieties ; the in-
tercourse of the elements by mediation of their con>
mon qualities ; the appetite of like portions to unite,
themselves ; amity and discord, or sympathy and an*
tipathy ; motion to the centre, with motion of stripe
or press; the casual agitation, aggregation, and essays
of the solid portions in the void space ; motion of
shuttings and openings ; are all mere nugations. And
that the calculating and ordination of the true de-
grees, moments, limits and laws of motions and al-
terations, by means whereof all works and effects are
produced, is a matter of a far other nature, than to
consist in such easy and wild generalities.

CHAP. XV.

OF the great error of inquiring knowledge in an-
ticipations. That I call anticipations, the voluntary-
collections that the mind maketh of knowledge, which
is every man's reason. That though this be a solemn
thing, and serves the turn to negotiate between man.
and man, because of the conformity and participation
of men's minds in the like errors, yet towards inquiry
of the truth of things and works it is of no value.
That civil respects are a lett that this pretended
reason should not be so contemptibly spoken of, as
were fit and medicinable, in regard that hath been
too much exalted and glorified, to the infinite detri-
ment of man's estate. Of the nature of words, and
their facility and aptness to cover and grace the de-
fects of anticipations. That it is no marvel if these
anticipations have brought forth such diversity and
repugnance in opinions, theories or philosophies, as
so many fable, of several arguments that had not the

1 58 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

nature of civil customs and government been in most
times somewhat adverse to such innovations, though
contemplative, there might have been, and would
have been many more. That the second school of the
Academics and the sect of Pyrrho, or the considerers,
that denied comprehension as to the disabling of
man's knowledge, entertained in anticipations, is well
to be allowed : but that they ought, when they had
overthrown and purged the floor of the ruins, to have
sought to build better in place. And more espe-
cially that they did unjustly and prejudicially, to charge
the deceit upon the report of the senses, which ad-
mitteth very sparing remedy; being indeed to have
been charged upon the anticipations of the mind,
which admitteth a perfect remedy. That the in-
formation of the senses is sufficient, not because they
err not, but because the use of the sense in discover-
ing of knowledge is for the most part not immediate.
So that it is the work, effect, or instance, that trieth
the axiom, and the sense doth but try the work done
or not done, being or not being. That the mind of
man in collecting knowledge needeth great variety of
helps, as well as the hand of man in manual and
mechanical practices needeth great variety of instru-
ments. And that it were a poor work, that if instru-
ments were removed, men would overcome with
their naked hands. And of the distinct points of
want and insufficiency in the mind of man.

CHAP. XVI.

THAT the mind of a man, as it is not a vessel of
that content or receipt to comprehend knowledge
without helps and supplies ; so again it is not sincere;
but of an ill and corrupt tincture. Of the inherent
and profound errors and superstitions in the nature
of the mind, and of the four sorts of idols or false
appearances that offer themselves to the understanding
in the inquisition of knowledge ; that is to say, the
idols of the tribe, the idols of the palace, the idols of
the cave, and the idols of the theatre : That these
four, added to the incapacity of the mind, and the

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 1 59

vanity and malignity of the affections, leave nothing
but impotency and confusion. A recital of the par-
ticular kinds of these four idolsj with some chosen
examples of the opinions they have begot, such of
them as have supplanted the state of knowledge
most.

CHAP. XVII.

OF the errors of such as have descended and ap-
plied themselves to experience, and attempted to in*
duce knowledge upon particulars. That they have
not had the resolution and 'strength of mind to free
themselves wholly from anticipations, but have made
a confusion and intermixture of anticipations and ob-
servations, and so vanished. That if any have had
the strength of mind generally to purge away and
discharge all anticipations ; they have not had that
greater and double strength and patience of mind, as
well to repel new anticipations after the view and
search of particulars, as to reject old which were in
their mind before ; but have from particulars and
history flown up to principles without the mean de-
grees, and so framed all the middle generalities or
axioms, not by way of scale or ascension from par-
ticulars, but by way of derivation from principles,
whence hath issued the infinite chaos of shadows and
moths, wherewith both books and minds have been
hitherto, and may be yet hereafter much more pestered.
That in the course of those derivations to make them
yet the more unprofitable, they have used, when any
light of new instance opposite to any assertion ap-
peared, rather to reconcile the instance, than to
amend the rule. That if any have had, or shall have
the power and resolution to fortify and inclose his
mind against all anticipations, yet if he have not
been or shall not be cautioned by the full under-
standing of the nature of the mind and spirit of man,
and therein of the states, pores and passages both of
knowledge and error, he hath not been nor shall not
be possibly able to guide or keep on his course aright.
That those that have been conversant in experience
and observation, have used, when they have intended

160 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

to discover the cause of any effect, to fix their con-
sideration narrowly and exactly upon that effect itself,
with all the circumstances thereof, and to vary the
trial thereof as many ways as can be devised ; which
course amounteth but to a tedious curiosity, and ever
breaketh off in wondering, and not in knowing. And
that they have not used to enlarge their observation to
match and sort that effect with instances of a diverse
subject, which must of necessity be before any cause
be found out. That they have passed over the ob-
servation of instances vulgar and ignoble, and stayed
their attention chiefly upon instances of mark ;
whereas the other sort are for the most part more
significant, and of better light and information. That
every particular that worketh any effect, is a thing
compounded, more or less, of diverse single natures,
more manifest and more obscure, and that it ap-
peareth not to whether of the natures the effect is to
be ascribed ; and yet notwithstanding they have taken
a course without breaking particulars, and reducing
them by exclusions and inclusions to a definite point,
to conclude upon inductions in gross ; which em-
pirical course is no less vain than the scholasticaL
That all such as have sought action and work out
of their inquiry, have been hasty and pressing to dis-
cover some practices for present use, and not to
discover axioms, joining with them the new assigna-
tions as their sureties. That the forerunning of the
mind to frame recipes upon axioms at the entrance, is
like Atalanta's golden ball that hindereth and in-
terrupteth the course ; and is to be inhibited till you
have ascended to a certain stage and degree of ge-
neralities; which forbearance will be liberally re-
compensed in the end : and that chance discovereth
new inventions by one and one, but science by knots
and clusters. That they have not collected sufficient
quantity of particulars, nor them in sufficient cer-
tainty and subtilty, nor of all several kinds, nor with
those advantages and discretions in the entry and
sorting which are requisite ; and of the weak man-
ner of collecting natural history, which hath been

Of the Interpretation of Nature.

used. Lastly, that they had no knowledge of the
formulary of interpretation, the work whereof is to
abridge experience, and to make things as certainly
found out by axiom in short time, as by infinite ex-
periences in ages.

CHAP. XVIII.

THAT the cautels and devices put in practice in
the delivery of knowledge for the covering and pal-
liating of ignorance, and the gracing and over-valuing
of that they utter, are without number ; but none
more bold and more hurtful than two: the one, that
men have used of a few observations upon any sub-
ject to make a solemn and formal art ; by filling it up
with discourse, accommodating it with some circum-
stances and directions to practice, and digesting it
into method, whereby men grow satisfied and secure,
39 if no more inquiry were to be made of that matter;
the other, that men have used to discharge ignorance
with credit, in defining all those effects which they
cannot attain unto, to be out of the compass of art
and human endeavour. That the very styles and
forms of utterance are so many characters of im-
posture, some chusing a style of pugnacity and con-
tention, some of satire and reprehension, some of
plausible and tempting similitudes and examples,
some of great words and high discourse, some of
short and dark sentences, some of exactness of me-
thod, all of positive affirmation ; without disclosing
the true motives and proofs of their opinions, or free
confessing their ignorance or doubts, except it be
now and then for a grace, and in cunning to win the
more credit in the rest, and not in good faith. That
although men be free from these errors and incum-
brances in the will and affection, yet it is not a thing
so easy as is conceived, to convey the conceit of
one man's mind into the mind of another, without
loss or mistaking, especially in notions new and di&
fering from those that are received. That never any
knowledge was delivered in the same order it was in-
vented, no not in the mathematics, though it should § eem

VOL. n, M

162 Of the Interpretation of Nature.

otherwise, in regard that the propositions placed last
do use the propositions or grants placed first for their
proof and demonstration. That there are forms and
methods of tradition wholly distinct and differing, ac-
cording to their ends whereto they are directed. That
there are two ends of tradition of knowledge, the one
to teach and instruct for use and practice, the other
to impart or intimate for re-examination and pro-
gression. That the former of these ends requireth
a method not the same, whereby it was invented and
induced, but such as is most compendious and ready,
whereby it may be used and applied. That the latter
of the ends, which is where a knowledge is delivered
to be continued and spun on by a succession of la-
bours, requireth a method whereby it may be trans-
posed to another in the same manner as it was col-
lected, to the end it may be discerned both where the
work is weak, and where it breaketh off. That this
latter method is not only unfit for the former end, but
also impossible for all knowledge gathered and in-
sinuated by anticipations, because the mind working
inwardly of itself, no man can give a just account
how he came to that knowledge which he hath re-
ceived, and that therefore this method is peculiar for
knowledge gathered by interpretation. That the dis-
cretion anciently observed, though by the precedent
of many vain persons and deceivers disgraced, of pub-
lishing part and reserving part to a private succession,
and of publishing in a manner whereby it shall not
be to the capacity nor taste of all, but shall as it
were single and adopt his reader, is not to be laid
aside, both for the avoiding of abuse in the excluded,
and the strengthening of affection in the admitted.
That there are other virtues of tradition, as that there
be no occasion given to error, and that it carry a
vigour to root and spread against the vanity of wits
and injuries of time ; all which, if they were ever due
to any knowledge delivered, or if they were never due
to any human knowledge heretofore delivered, yet are
now due to the knowledge propounded.

Of the Interpretation of Nature. 1 6 3

CHAP. XIX.

OF the impediments which have been in the affec-
tions, the principle whereof hath been despair or dif-
fidence, and the strong apprehension of the difficulty,
obscurity, and infiniteness which belongeth to the in-
vention of knowledge, and that men have not known
their own strength ; and that the supposed difficulties
and vastness of the work are rather in shew and mus->
ter, than in state or substance, where the true way is
taken. That this diffidence hath moved and caused
some never to enter into search, and others, when they
nave been entered, either to give over, or to seek a
more compendious course than can stand with the na-
ture of true search. That of those that have refused
and prejudged inquiry, the more sober and grave sort
of wits have depended upon authors and traditions,
and the more vain and credulous resorted to revelation
and intelligence with spirits and higher natures. That of
those that have entered into search, some having fallen
upon some conceits, which they after consider to be '
the same which they have found in former authors,
have suddenly taken a persuasion that a man shall
but, with much labour, incur and light upon the
same inventions which he might with ease receive
from others, and that it is but a vanity and self-pleas-
ing of the wit to go about again, as one that would
rather have a flower of his own gathering, than much
better gathered to his hand. That the same humour
of sloth and diffidence suggesteth, that a man shall but
revive some ancient opinion, which was long ago
propounded, examined, and rejected. And that it
is easy to err in conceit, that a man's observation or
notion is the same with a former opinion, both because
new conceits must of necessity be uttered in old
words, and because upon true and erroneous grounds
men may meet in consequence or conclusion, as several
lines or circles that cut in some one point. That
the greatest part of those that have descended into
search have chosen for the most artificial and compen-
dious course, to induce principles out of particulars^

M 2

l o l Of the Interpretation of Nature.

and to reduce all other propositions to principles ; and
so, instead of the nearest way, have been led to no
way, or a mens labyrinth. That the two contempla-
tive ways have some resemblance with the old para-
ble of the two moral ways, the one beginning with
uncertainty and difficulty, and ending in plainness and
certainty; and the other beginning with a shew of
plainness and certainty, and ending in difficulty and
uncertainty. Of the great and manifest error and un-
true conceit or estimation of the infmiteness of parti-
culars, whereas indeed all prolixity is in discourse and
derivations; and of the infinite and most laborious
expence of wit that hath been employed upon toys
and matters of no fruit or value. That although the
period of one age cannot advance men to the fur-
thest point of interpretation of nature, except the
\vork should be undertaken with greater helps than
can be expected, yet it cannot fail in much less space
of time to make return of many singular commodi-
ties towards the state and occasions of man's life.
That there is less reason of distrust in the course of in-
terpretation now propounded, than in any knowledge
formerly delivered, because this course doth in sort
equal mens wits, and leaveth no great advantage or
pre-eminence to the perfect and excellent motions of
the spirit. That to draw a straight line, or to make a
circle perfect round by aim of hand only, there must
be a great difference between an unsteady and un-
practised hand and a steady and practised ; but to do
it by rule or compass it is much alike.

CHAP. XXI.

OF the impediments which have been in the two
extreme humours of admiration of antiquity and love
of novelty; and again, of over-servile reverence, or
over-light scorn of the opinions of others.

CHAP. XXII.

OF the impediments which have been in the affec-
tion of pride, specially of one kind, which is the dis-
dain of dwelling and being conversant much in expe-

Of the Interpretation of Nature.

riences and particulars, especially such as are vulgar in
occurrency, and base and ignoble in use. That be-
sides certain higher mysteries of pride, generalities
seem to have a dignity and solemnity, in that they do
not put men in mind of their familiar actions, in that
they have less affinity with arts mechanical and illibe-
ral, in that they are not so subject to be controled by
persons of mean observation, in that they seem to teach
men what they know not, and not to refer them to
what they know. All which conditions directly feed-
ing the humour of pride, particulars do want. That
the majesty of generalities, and the divine nature of
the mind in taking them, if they be truly collected, and
be indeed the direct reflexions of things, cannot be too
much magnified. And that it is true, that interpretation
is the very natural and direct intention, action, and
progression of the understanding, delivered from im-
pediments. And that all anticipation is but a de-
flexion or declination by accident.

CHAP. XXV.

OF the impediments which have been in the state
of heathen religion, and other superstitions and errors
of religion. And that in the true religion there hath
not, nor is any impediment, except it be by accident or
intermixture of humour. That a religion which con-
sisteth in rites and forms of adoration, and not in con-
fessions and beliefs, is adverse to knowledge ; because
men having liberty to inquire and discourse of theology
at pleasure, it cometh to pass that all inquisition of
nature endeth and limiteth itself in such metaphysical
or theological discourse ; whereas if mens wits be shut
out of that port, it turneth them again to discover,
and so to seek reason of reason more deeply. And
that such was the religion of the Heathen. That a
religion that is jealous of the variety of learning, dis-
course, opinions, and sects, as misdoubting it may
shake the foundations, or that cherisheth devotion
upon simplicity and ignorance, as ascribing ordinary
effects to the immediate working of God, is adverse
to knowledge. That such is the religion of the Turk,

Of the Interpretation of Nature.

and such hath been the abuse of Christian religion
at some several times, and in some several factions,
And of the singular advantage which the Christian reli-*
gion hath towards the furtherance of true knowledge,
in that it excludeth and interdicteth human reason,
whether by interpretation or anticipation, from exa^
mining or discussing of the mysteries arid principles
of faith.

CHAP. XX VL

OF the impediments which have been in the na-
ture of society, and the policies of state. That there
is no composition of estate nor society, nor order or qua-
lity of persons, which have not some point of contra-
riety towards true knowledge. That monarchies in-
cline wits to profit and pleasure, and commonwealths
to glory and vanity. That universities incline wits to.
sophistry and affectation ; cloisters to fables and unpro-
fitable subtilty ; study at large to variety ; and that it is
hard to say, whether mixture of contemplations with
an active life, or retiring wholly to contemplations,
do disable and hinder the mind more.

FILUM LABYRINTH!,

SIVE

FORMULA INQUISITIONIS.

AD FILIOS.

••••••••••••^•••••••••••••a

PARS PRIMA.

1. FRANCIS BACON thought in this manner.
The knowledge whereof the world is now possessed,
especially that of nature, extendeth not to magnitude
and certainty of works. The physician pronounceth
many diesases incurable, and faileth oft in the rest. The
alchemists wrax old and die in hopes. The magicians
perform nothing that is permanent and profitable.
The mechanics take small light from natural philoso-
phy, and do but spin on their own little threads.
Chance sometimes discovereth inventions ; but that
worketh not in years, but ages. So he saw well, "that
the inventions known are very imperfect, and that
new are not like to be brought to light but in great
length of time ; and that those which are, came not to
light by philosophy.

2. He thought also this state of knowledge was the
worse, because men strive against themselves to save
the credit of ignorance, and to satisfy themselves in
this poverty. For the physician, besides the cauteles
of practice, hath this general cautele of art, that he
dischargeth the weakness of his art upon supposed
impossibilities; neither can his art be condemned
when itself judgeth. That philosophy also, out of
which the knowledge of physic which now is in use
is hewed, receiveth certain positions and opinions,
which, if they be well weighed, induce this persua-
sion, that no great works are to be expected from art,
and the hand of man ; as, in particular, that opi-
nion, that the heat of the sun and fire differ in kind ;
and that other, that composition is the zwrk of man >

16S Filum Labyrinthi.

and mixture is the work of nature, and the like ; all
tending to the circumscription of man's power, and to
artificial despair : killing in men not only the com-
fort of imagination,, but the industry of trial : only
upon vain-glory, to have their art thought perfect, and
that all is impossible that is not already found. The
alchemist dischargeth his art upon his own errors,
either supposing a misunderstanding of the words of
his authors, which maketh him listen after auricular
traditions ; or else a failing in the true proportions and
scruples of practice, which maketh him renew infi-
nitely his trials ; and finding also that he lighteth
upon some mean experiments and conclusions by the
way, feedeth upon them, and magnifieth them to the
most, and supplieth the rest in hopes. The magician,
when he findeth something, as he conceivetb, above
nature, effected, thinketh, when a breach is once
made in nature, that it is all one to perform great
things and small ; not seeing, that they are but sub-
jects of a certain kind, wherein magic and superstition
hath played in all times. The mechanical person, if
he can refine an invention, or put two or three obser-
vations or practices together in one, or couple things
better with their use, or make the work in less or
greater volume, taketh himself for an inventor. So
he saw well, that men either persuade themselves of
new inventions as of impossibilities ; or else think they
are already extant, but in secret and in few hands ;
or that they account of those little industries and ad-
ditions, as of inventions: all which turneth to the
averting of their minds from any just and constant la-
bour, to invent further in any quantity.

3. Rethought also, when men did set before them-
selves the variety and perfection of works produced by
mechanical arts, they are apt rather to admire the pro-
visions of man, than to apprehend his wants; not
considering, that the original inventions and conclu-
sions of nature, which are the life of all that variety,
are not many, nor deeply fetched ; and that the rest
is but the subtile and ruled motion of the instrument
and hand 5 and that the shop therein is not unlike the

Filum Ldbyrinthi.

library, which in such number of books containeth,
for the far greater part, nothing but iterations, varied
sometimes in form, but not new in substance. So he
saw plainly, that opinion of store was a cause of want;
and that both works and doctrines appear many, and
are few.

4. He thought also, that knowledge is uttered to
men in a form, as if every thing were finished ; for it
is reduced into arts and methods ; which in their di-
visions do seem to include all that may be. And how
weakly soever the parts are filled, yet they carry the
shew and reaso^i of a total ; and thereby the writings
of some received authors go for the very art: whereas
antiquity used to deliver the knowledge which the
mind of man had gathered, in observations, aphorisms,
or short and dispersed sentences, or small tractates of
some parts that they had diligently meditated and la-
boured ; which did invite men, both to ponder that
which .was invented, and to add and supply further.
But now sciences are delivered to be believed and
accepted, and not to be examined and further disco-
vered ; and the succession is between master and dis-
ciple, and not between inventor and continuer or ad-
vancer; and therefore sciences stand at a stay, and
have done for many ages, and that which is positive is
fixed, and that which is question is kept question, so
as the columns of no further proceeding are -pitched.
And therefore he saw plainly men had cut themselves
off from further invention ; and that it is no marvel,
that is not obtained which hath not been attempted,
but rather shut out and debarred.

5. He thought also that knowledge is almost gene-
rally sought either for delight and satisfaction, or for
gain or profession, or for credit and ornament, and that
every of these are as Atalanta's balls, which hinder
the race of invention. For men are so far in these
courses from seeking to increase the mass of know-
ledge, as of that mass which is they will take no more
than will serve their turn : and if any one amongst so
many seeketh knowledge for itself, yet he rather seek-
eth to know the variety of things, than to discern of

17O ., Fihim Lalyrinthi.

the truth and causes of them ; and if his inquisition
be yet more severe, yet it tendeth rather to judgment
than to invention ; and rather to discover truth in
.controversy, than new matter ; and if his heart be so
Jarge as he propound eth to himself further discovery
or invention, yet it is rather of new discourse and spe-
culation of causes, than of effects and operations.
And as for those that have so much in their mouths,
action and use and practice, and the referring of
sciences thereunto; they mean it of application of that
which is known, and not of a discovery of that which
is unknown. So he saw plainly, that this mark,
namely, invention of further means to endow the
condition and life of man with new powers or
works, was almost never yet set up and resolved in
man's intention and inquiry.

6. He thought also that, amongst other know-
ledges, natural philosophy hath been the least fol-
lowed and laboured. For since the Christian faith,
the greatest number of wits have been employed, and
the greatest helps and rewards have been converted
upon divinity. And before-time likewise, the greatest
part of the studies of philosophers was consumed in
moral philosophy, which was as the -heathen divinity.
And in both times a great part of the best wits betook
themselves to law, pleadings, and causes of estate ;
specially in the time of the greatness of the Romans,
who by reason of their large empire needed the ser-
vice of all their able men for civil business. And the
-time amongst the Grecians, in which natural philoso-
phy seemed most to flourish, was but a short space >
and that also rather abused in differing sects and con-
flicts of opinions than profitably spent. Since which
time, natural philosophy was never any profession,
nor ever possessed any whole man, except perchance
some monk in a cloister, or some gentleman in the
country, and that very rarely ; but became a science
of passage, to season a little young and unripe wits,
and to serve for an introduction to other arts, especi-
ally physic and the practical mathematics. So as he
saw plainly, that natural philosophy hath been in-

Filum Labyrinthi.

tended by few persons, and in them hath occupied the
Jeast part of their time; and that in the weakest of
their age and judgment.

7. He thought also, how great opposition and pre-
judice natural philosophy had received by superstition,
and the immoderate and blind zeal of religion ; for he
found that some of the Grecians, which first gave the
reason of thunder, had been condemned of impiety ;
and that the cosmographers, which first discovered
and described the roundness of the earth, and the con-
sequence thereof touching the Antipodes, were not
much otherwise censured by the ancient fathers of the
Christian church ; and that the case is now much
worse, in regard of the boldness of the schoolmen
and their dependences in the monasteries, who having
made divinity into an art, have almost incorporated
the contentious philosophy of Aristotle into the body
of Christian religion ; and generally he perceived in
men of devout simplicity this opinion, that the secrets
of nature were the secrets of God ; and part of that
glory whereinto the mind of man, if it seek to press,
shall be oppressed ; and that the desire in men to at-
tain to so great and hidden knowledge, hath a resem-
blance with that temptation which caused the original
fall ; and on the other side, in men of a devout policy,
he noted an inclination to have the people depend
upon God the more, when they are less acquainted
with second causes ; and to have no stirring in philo-
sophy, lest it may lead to an innovation in divinity,
or else should discover matter of further contradiction
to divinity. But in this part, resorting to the autho-
rity of the Scriptures, and holy examples, and to rea-
son, he rested not satisfied alone, but much confirmed.
For first, he considered that the knowledge of nature,
by the light whereof man discerned of every living
creature, and imposed names according to their pro-
priety, was not the occasion of the fall ; but the moral
knowledge of good and evil, affected to the end to
depend no more upon God's commandments, but for
man to direct himself. Neither could he find in any
jacripture, that the inquiry and science of man in any |

H2 Filum Labyrinth?.

thing, under the mysteries of the Deity, is determined
and restrained, but contrariwise allowed and pro-
voked. For concerning all other knowledge the Scrip-
ture pronounceth, That it is the glory of God to con-
ceal, but it. is the glory of man (or of the king, for the
king is but the excellency of man) to invent; and
again, The spirit of man is as the lamp of God, where-
with he searcheth every secret ; and again most effec-
tually, That God hath made all things beautiful and
decent, according to the return of their seasons ; also
that he hath set the world in man s heart, and yet man
cannot Jind out the work which God worheth from the
beginning to the end: shewing that the heart of man
is a continent of 'that concave or capacity, wherein
the content of the world, that is, all forms of the
creatures, and whatsoever is not God, may be placed,
or received ; and complaining, that through the va-
riety of things, and vicissitudes of times, which are
but impediments and not impuissances, man cannot
accomplish his invention. In precedent also he set
before his eyes, that in those few memorials before the
flood, the Scripture honoureth the name of the in-
ventors of music and works in metal; that Moses had
this addition of praise, that he was seen in all the
learning of the Egyptians ; that Solomon, in his grant
of wisdom from God, had contained, as a branch
thereof, that knowledge whereby he wrote a natural
history of all verdure, from the cedar to the moss,
and of all that breatheth ; that the book of Job, and
many places of the prophets, have great aspersion of
natural philosophy ; that the church in the bosom and
lap thereof, in the greatest injuries of times, ever pre-
served, as holy relicks, the books of philosophy and
all heathen learning; and that when Gregory, the
bishop of Rome, became adverse and unjust to the
memory of heathen antiquity, it was censured for
pusillanimity in him and the honour thereof soon after
restored, and his own memory almost persecuted by
his successor Sabinian ; arid lastly, in our times, and
the ages of our fathers, when Luther and the divines
of the Protestant church on the one side, and the Je-

Filum Labyrinthi.

suits on the other, have enterprised to reform, the
one the doctrine, the other the discipline and manners
of the church of Rome, he saw well how both of them
have awaked to their great honour and succour all
human learning. And for reason, there cannot be a
greater and more evident than this, that all know-
ledge, and specially that of natural philosophy, tend-
eth highly to the magnifying of the glory of God in his
power, providence, and benefits, appearing and en-
graven in his works, which without this knowledge
are beheld but as through a veil : for if the heavens
in the body of them do declare the glory of God to the
eye, much more do they in- the rule and decrees of
them declare it to the understanding. And another
reason, not inferior to this is, that the same natural phi-
losophy principally amongst all other human know-
ledge, doth give an excellent defence against both ey.
tremes of religion, superstition, and infidelity ; for
both it freeth the mind from a number of weak fan-
cies and imaginations, and it raiseth the mind to ac-
knowledge that to God all things are possible : for to
that purpose speaketh our Saviour in that first canon
against heresies, delivered upon the case of the re-
surrection, You err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the
power of God ; teaching, that there are but two foun-
tains of heresy, not knowing the will of God revealed
in the Scriptures, and not knowing the power of God
revealed or at least made most sensible in his crea-
tures. So as he saw well, that natural philosophy
was of excellent use to the exaltation of the Divine
Majesty ; and, that which is admirable, that being a
remedy of superstition, it is nevertheless an help^to
faith. He saw likewise, that the former opinions to
the prejudice hereof had no true ground ; but must
spring either out of mere ignorance, or out of an ex-
cess of devotion, to have divinity all in all, whereas
it should be only above all ; both which states of
mind may be best pardoned ; or else out of worse
causes, namely out of envy, which is proud weak-
ness, and deserveth to be despised ; or out of some
mixture of imposture, to tell a lie for God's cause $

Ft him Labyrinth*.

or out of an impious diffidence, as if men should fear
to discover some things in nature which might subvert
faith. But still he saw well, howsoever these opinions
are in right reason reproved, yet they leave not to be
most effectual hindrances to natural philosophy and
invention.

8. He thought also, that there wanted not great
contrariety to the further discovery of sciences in
regard of the orders and customs of universities, and
also in regard of common opinion. For in universi-
ties and colleges mens studies are almost confined to
certain authors, from which if any dissenteth or pro*
poundeth matter of redargution, it is enough to make
him thought a person turbulent; whereas if it be well
advised, there is a great difference to be made be-
tween matters contemplative and active. For in go-
vernment change is suspected, though to the better ;
but it is natural to arts to be in perpetual agitation
and growth. Neither is the danger alike of new light,
and of new motion or remove ; and for vulgar and
received opinions, nothing is more usual, or more
usually complained of, than that it is imposed for ar^
rogancy and presumption, for men to authorise them-
selves against antiquity and authors, towards whom
envy is ceased, and reverence by time amortised ; it
not being considered what Aristotle himself did, upon
whom the philosophy that now is chiefly dependeth,
who came with a professed contradiction to all the
\vorld, and did put all his opinions upon his own au-
thority and argument, and never so much as nameth
an author, but to confute and reprove him ; and yet
his success well fulfilled the observation of him
that said, Jfa man come in Ids own name, him willyou
receive. Men think likewise that if they should give
themselves to the liberty of invention and travail of
inquiry, that they shall light again upon some con-
ceits and contemplations which have been formerly
offered to the world, and have been put down by
better, which have prevailed and brought them to
.oblivion; not seeing, that howsoever the property and
breeding, of knowledges is in great and excellent

Filum Labyrinlhi. 1.75

wits, }7ct the estimation and price of them is in the
multitude, or in the inclinations of princes and great
persons meanly learned. So as those knowledges are
like to be received and honoured, which have their
foundation in the subtility or finest trial of common
sense, or such as fill the imagination, and not such
knowledge as is digged out of the hard mine of his-
tory and experience, and falleth out to be in some
points as adverse to common sense, or popular reason,
as religion, or more. AVhich kind of knowledge, ex-
cept it be delivered with strange advantages of elo-
quence and power, may be likely to appear and dis-
close a little to the world, and straight to vanish and
shut again. So that time seemeth to be of the nature
of a river or flood, that bringeth down to us that
which is light and blown up, and sinketh and drovvn-
eth that which is solid and grave. So he saw well.

O '

that in the state of religion, and in the administration
of learning, and in .common opinion, there were
many and continual stops and traverses to the course
of invention.

9. He thought also, that the invention of works
and further possibility was prejudiced in a more spe-
cial manner than that of speculative truth ; for be-
sides the impediments common to both, it hath by
itself been notably hurt and discredited by the vain
promises and pretences of alchemy,, magic, astrology,
and such other arts, which, as they now pass, hold
much more of imagination and belief, than of sense
and demonstration. But to use the poet's language,
men ought to have remembered, that although Ixion
of a cloud in the likeness of Juno begat Centaurs and
Chimeras, yet Jupiter also of the true Juno begat
Vulcan and Hebe. Neither is it just to deny credit
to the greatness of the acts of Alexander, because the
like or more strange have been feigned of an Amadis
or an Arthur, or other fabulous worthies. But though
this in true reason should be, and that men ought
not to make a confusion of unbelief ; yet he saw well
it could not otherwise be in event, but that experi-
ence of untruth had made access to truth more dif-

Filum Labyr inthi.

ficult, and that the ignominy of vanity had abated all
greatness of mind.

10. He thought also, there was found in the mind
of man an affection naturally bred and fortified, and
furthered by discourse and doctrine, which did per-
vert the true proceeding towards active and operative
knowledge. This was a false estimation, that it
should be as a diminution to the mind of man to be
much conversant in experiences and particulars, sub-
ject to sense, and bound in matter, and which are
laborious to search, ignoble to meditate, harsh to de-
liver, illiberal to practise, infinite as is supposed in
number, and no ways accommodated to the glory of
arts. This opinion or state of mind received much
credit and strength by the school of Plato, who think-
ing that particulars rather revived the notions, or ex-
cited the faculties of the mind, than merely informed;
and having mingled his philosophy with superstition,
which never favoureth the sense, extolleth too much
the understanding of man in the inward light thereof.
And again, Aristotle's school, which giveth the dew
to the sense in assertion, denieth it in practice much
more than that of Plato. For we see the schoolmen,
Aristotle's successors, which were utterly ignorant of
history, rested only upon agitation of wit ; whereas
Plato giveth good example of inquiry by induction
and view of particulars ; though in such a wandering
manner as is of no force or fruit. So that he saw well,
that the supposition of the sufficiency of man's mind
hath lost the means thereof.

SEQUELA CHARTARUM;

SIVE

INQUIS1TTO LEGJTIMA

DE

CALORE ET FRIG ORE.

SECTIO ORDINIS.

Charla suggestionis, sive memoria fixa.

1 HE sun-beams hot to sense.

The moon-beams not hot, but rather conceived to
have a quality of cold, for that the greatest colds are
noted to be about the full, and the greatest heats
about the change. Query.

The beams of the stars have no sensible heat by
themselves ; but are conceived to have an augmenta-
tive heat of the sun-beams by the instance following.
The same climate arctic and antarctic are observed to
differ in cold, namely, that the antarctic is the more
cold, and it is manifest the antarctic hemisphere is
thinner planted with stars.

The heats observed to be greater in July than in
June ; at which time the sun is nearest the greatest
fixed stars, namely, Cor Leonis, Cauda Leonis, Spica
Firginif$ Syrius, Canicida.

The conjunction of any two of the three highest
planets noted to cause great heats.

Comets conceived by some to be as well causes as
effects of heat, much more the stars.

The sun-beams have greater heat when they are more
perpendicular than when they are more oblique; as
appeareth in difference of regions, and the diffe*
rence of the times of summer and winter in the .same

VOL. II. N

178 DC Calore et Fngore.

region ; and chiefly in the difference of the hours of
mid-day, mornings, evenings in the same day.

The heats more extreme in July and August than
in May or June, commonly imputed to the stay and
continuance of heat.

The heats more extreme under the tropics than
under the line: commonly imputed to the stay and
continuance of heat, because the sun there doth as it
were double a cape.

The heats more about three or four of clock than
at noon ; commonly imputed, to the stay and conti-
nuance of heat.

The sun noted to be hotter when it shineth forth
between clouds, than when the sky is open and se-
rene.

The middle region of the air hath manifest effects
of cold, notwithstanding locally it be nearer the
sun, commonly imputed to antiperistasis, assuming
that the beams of the sun are hot either by approach
or by reflexion, and that falleth in the middle term
between both; or if, as some conceive, it be only by
reflexion, then the cold of that region resteth chiefly
upon distance. The instances shewing the cold of
that region, are the snows which descend, the hails
which descend, and the snows and extreme colds
which are upon high mountains.

But Query, of such mountains as adjoin to sandy
vales, and not to fruitful vales, which minister no va-
pours ; or of mountains above the region of vapours,
as is reported of Olympus, where any inscription
upon the ashes of the altar remained untouched of
wind or dew. And note, it is also reported, that
men carry up sponges with vinegar to thicken their
breath, the air growing too fine for respiration, which
seemeth not to stand with coldness.

The clouds make a -mitigation of the heat of the
sun. So doth the interposition of any body, which
we term shades; but yet the nights in summer are
many times as hot to the feeling of mens bodies as
the days are within doors, where the beams of the
sun actually beat not.

DC Galore et F rigor e. 1?9

There is no other nature of heat known from the
celestial bodies or from the air, but that which cometh
by the sun-beams. For in the countries near the
pole, we see the extreme colds end in the summer
months, as in the voyage of Nova Zembla, where
they could not disengage their barks from the ice, no
not in July, and met with great mountains of ice,
some floating, some fixed, at that time of the year,
being the heart of summer.

The caves under the earth noted to be warmer in
winter than in summer, and so the waters that
spring from within the earth.

Great quantity of sulphur, and sometimes naturally
burning after the manner of ./Etna, in Iceland -, the
like written of Greenland, and divers other the cold
countries *>

The trees in the cold countries are such as are fuller
of rosin, pitch, tar, which are matters apt for fire, and
the woods themselves more combustible than those
in much hotter countries ; as for example, fir, pine-
apple, juniper: Query, wrhether their trees of the
same kind that ours are, as oak and ash, bear not, in
the more cold countries, a wood more brittle and
ready to take fire than the same kinds with us ?

The sun-beams heat manifestly by reflexion, as in
countries pent in with hills, upon walls or buildings,
upon pavements, upon gravel more than earth, upon
arable more than grass, upon rivers if they be not
very open, etc.

The uniting or collection of the sun-beams multi-
plieth heat, as in burning-glasses, which are made
thinner in the middle than on the sides, as I take it
contrary to spectacles ; and the operation of them is,
as I remember, first to place them between the sun
and the body to be fired, and then to draw them up-
ward towards the sun, which it is true maketh the
angle of the cone sharper. But then I take it if the
glass had been first placed at the same distance, to

* No doubt the heat of the sun hath great power in cold countries,
though it be not to the analogy of men, and fruits, etc.

N 2

ISO De Calore et Frlgore.

which it is after drawn, it would not have had that
force, and yet that had been all one to the sharpness
of the angle. 2ite?y.

So in that the sun's beams are hotter perpendicu-
larly than obliquely, it may be imputed to the union
of the beams, which in case of perpendicularity reflect
into the very same lines with the direct ; and the fur-
ther from perpendicularity the more obtuse the angle,
and the greater distance between the direct beam and
the reflected beam.

The sun-beams raise vapours out of the earth, and
when they withdraw they fall back in dews.

The sun-beams do many times scatter the mists
which are in the mornings.

The sun-beams cause the divers returns of the herbsf
plants, and fruits of the earth ; for we see in lemon-
trees and the like, that there is coming on at once
fruit ripe, fruit unripe, and blossoms; which may shew
that the plant worketh to put forth continually, were
it not for the variations of the accesses and recesses of
the sun, which call forth, and put back.

The excessive heat of the sun doth wither and de^
stroy vegetables, as well as the cold doth nip and
blast them.

The heat or beams of the sun doth take away the
smell of flowers, specially such as are of a milder
odour.

The beams of the sun do disclose summer flowers,
as the pimpernel, marigold, and almost all flowers
else, for they close commonly morning and evening,
or in over-cast weather, and open in the brightness
of the sun ; which is but imputed to dryness and mois-
ture, which doth make the beams heavy or erect ; and
not to any other propriety in the sun-beams; so they
report not only a closing, but a bending or in-
clining in the hdiotropium and calendula. Query.

The sun-beams do ripen all fruits, and addeth to
them a sweetness or fatness ; and yet some sultry hot
days overcast, are noted to ripen more than bright
days.

The sun-beams are thought to mend distilled vva-

De Galore ct Frigore* 1 SI

fers, the glasses being well stopped, and to make
them more virtuous and fragrant.

The sun-beams do turn wine into vinegar ; but
Query, whether they would not sweeten verjuice ?

The sun-beams do pall any wine or beer that is set
in them.

The sun-beams do take away the lustre of any silks
or arms.

There is almost no mine but lieth some depth in tfie
earth; gold is conceived lo lie highest, and in the
hottest countries ; yet Thracia and Hungary are co!df
and the hills of Scotland have yielded gold, but m
small grains or quantity.

If you set a root of a tree too deep in the ground,
that root will perish, and the stock will put forth a
ttew root nearer the superficies of the earth.

Some trees and plants prosper best in the shade ; as
the baycs, strawberries, some wood-flowers.

Almost all flies love the sun-beams, so do snakes;
toads and worms contrary.

The sun-beams tanneth the skin of man ; and' in
some places turneth it to black.

The sun-beams are hardly endured 'by many, but
cause head-ach, faintness, and with many they cause
rheums; yet to aged men they are comfortable.

The sun causes pestilence, which with us rage
about autumn: but- it is reported, in Barbary they
break up about June, and rage most in winter.

The heat of the sun, and of fire, and living crea-
tures, agree in some things which pertain to vivifi-
cation ; as the back of a chimney will set forward an
»pric6t-tree as well as the sun : the fire will raise a
dead butterfly as well as tbe sun ; and so will the heat
of a living creature. The heat of the sun in sand will
hatch an egg. Query.

The heat of the sun .in the hottest countries is no-
thing so violent as that of fire, no not scarcely so hot
to the sense as that of a living creature.

The sun, a fountain of light as well as heat. The
other celestial bodies manifest in light, and yet non
tQnsfat whether all borrowed, as in the moon; but
obscure in heat,

182 De Calore et Frigort'.

The southern and western wind with us is tlio
warmest, whereof the one bloweth from the sun, the
other from the sea; the northern and eastern the
more cold. Querij, whether in the coast of Florida,
or at Brasil, the east wind be not the warmest, and
the west the coldest ; and so beyond the antartic tro-:
pic, the southern wind the coldest.

The air useth to be extreme hot before thunders.

The sea and air ambient, appeareth to be hotter than
that at land ; for in the northern voyages two or three
degrees farther at the open sea, they find less ice than,
two or three degrees more south near land ; but
Query, for that may be by reason of the shores ancl
shallows.

The snows dissolve fastest upon the sea-coasts, yet
the winds are counted the bitterest from the sea, and
such as trees will bend from. Query.

The streams or clouds of brightness which appear
in the firmament, being such through which the
stars may be seen, and shoot not, but rest, are signs,
of heat.

The pillars of light, which are so upright, and dq
commonly shoot and vary, are signs of cold; but both
these are signs of drought.

The air when it is moved is to the sense colder ; as
in winds, fannings, ventilabra.

The air in things fibrous, as fleeces, furs, etc. warm ;
and those stuffs to the feeling warm.

The water to man's body seemeth colder than the
air ; and so in summer, in swimming it seemeth at the
first going in ; and yet after one hath been in a while,
at the coming forth again, the air seemeth colder than,
the water.

The snow more cold to the sense than water, and
the ice than snow ; and they have in Italy means to
keep snow and ice for the cooling of their drinks :
Query, whether it be so in froth in respect of the
liquor?

Baths of hot water feel hottest at the first going in.

The frost dew which we see in hoar frost, and in
the rymes upon trees or the like, accounted more

DC Galore ct Frlgore. 1 3 3

mortifying cold than snow ; for snow cherisheth the
ground, and any thing sowed in it ; the other biteth
and killeth.

Stone and metal exceeding cold to the feeling more
than wood : yea more than jet or amber, or horn,
which are no less smooth.

The snow is ever in the winter season, but the hail,
which is more of the nature of ice, is ever in the sum-
mer season ; whereupon it is conceived, that as the
hollows of the earth are warmest in the winter, so
that region of the air is coldest in the summer ; as if
they were a fugue of the nature of either from the
contrary, and a collecting itself to an union, and so
to a further strength,

So in the shades under trees, in the summer, which
stand in an open field, the shade noted to be colder
than in a wood.

Cold effecteth congelation in liquors, so as they
do consist and hold together, which before did run.

Cold breaketh glasses, if they be close stopped, in
frost,, when the liquor freezeth within.

Cold in extreme maketh metals, that are dry and
brittle, cleft and crack, JEraque dissiliunts so of pots
of earth and gla^ss.

Cold maketh bones of living creatures more fragile.

Cold maketh living creatures to swell in the joints,
and the blood to clot, and turn more blue.

Bitter frosts do malwe all drinks to taste more dead
and flat.

Cold maketh the arteries and flesh more asper and
rough.

Cold causes rheums and distillations by compres-
sing the brain, and laxes by like reason.

Cold increases appetite in the stomach, and willing-
ness to stir.

Cold maketh the fire to scald and sparkle.

Paracelsus reporteth, that if a glass of wine be set
upon a terras in a bitter frost, it will leave some li-
quor unfrozen in the centre of the glass, which excel-
letb spiritus vinl drawn by fire.

Cold in Muscovy, and the like countries, causes

184 De Calore et Frigore.

those parts which are voidest of blood, as the nose,
the ears, the toes, the ringers, to mortify and rot; espe-
cially if you come suddenly to fire, after you have
been in the air abroad, they are sure to moulder and
dissolve. They use for remedy, as is said, washing
in snow water.

If a man come out of a bitter cold suddenly to the
fire, he is ready to swoon or be overcome.

So contrariwise at Nova Zembla, when they opened
their door at times to go forth, he that opened the
door was in danger to be overcome.

The quantity of fish in the cold countries, Nor-?
way, etc. very abundant

The quantity of fowl and eggs laid in the cliffs in
great abundance.

In Nova Zembla they found no beasts but bears
and foxes, whereof the bears gave over to be seen
about September, and the foxes began.

Meat will keep from putrifying longer in frosty
•weather, than at other times.

In Iceland they keep fish, by exposing it to the
cold, from putrifying without salt.

The nature of man endureth the colds in the coun-
tries of Scricfinnia, Biarmia, Lappia, Iceland, Groen^
land ; and that not by perpetual keeping in in stoves
in the winter time, as they do in Russia : but contra-
riwise, their chief fairs and intercourse is written ta
be in the winter, because the ice evens and levelleth
the passages of waters, plashes, etc.

A thaw after a frost doth greatly rot and mellow
the ground.

Extreme cold hurteth the eyes, and cause th blind-
ness in many beasts, as is reported.

The cold maketh any solid substance, as wood,
stone, metal, put to the flesh, to cleave to it, and tor
pull the flesh after it, and so put to any cloth that
is moist.

Cold maketh the pilage of beasts more thick and
long, as foxes of Muscovy, sables, etc.

Cold maketh the pilage oF most beasts incline to
grayness or whiteness, as foxes, bears, and so the

De Color e et Frigore. 1 8 5

plumage of fowls ; and maketh also the crests of
cocks and their feet white, as is reported.

Extreme cold will make nails leap out of the walls,
and out of locks, and the like.

Extreme cold maketh leather to be stiff like horn.

In frosty weather the stars appear clearest and most
sparkling.

In the change from frost to open weather, or from
open weather to frosts, commonly great mists.

In extreme colds any thing never so little which
arresteth the air maketh it to congeal ; as we see in
cobwebs in windows, which is one of the least and
weakest threads that is, and yet drops gather about it
like chains of pearl.

So in frosts, the inside of glass windows gathereth
a dew ; Query, if not more without.

Query, Whether the sweating of marble and stones
be in frost, or towards rain.

Oil in time of frost gathereth to a substance, as of
tallow ; and it is said to sparkle some time, so as it
giveth a light in the dark.

The countries which lie covered with snow, have
a hastier maturation of all grain than in other coun-
tries, all being within three months, or thereabouts.

Query, It is said, that compositions of honey, as
mead, do ripen, and are most pleasant in the great
colds.

The frosts with us are casual, and not tied to any
months, so as they are not merely caused by the
recess of the sun, but mixed with some inferior causes.
In the inland of the northern countries, as in Russia,
the weather for the three or four months of No-
vember, December, January, February, is constant,
namely, clear and perpetual frost, without snows or
rains.

There is nothing in our region, which, by approach
of a matter hot, will not take heat by transition or
excitation.

There is nothing hot here with us but is in a kind
of consumption, if it carry heat in itself; for all fired
things are ready to consume ; chafed things are ready

186 DC Galore et Frigorc.

to fire ; and the heat of mens bodies needeth aliment
to restore.

The transition of heat is without any imparting of
substance, and yet remaineth after the body heated is
withdrawn ; for it is not like smells, for they leave
some airs or parts ; not like light, for that abideth not
when the first body is removed ; not unlike to the
motion of the loadstone, which is lent without ad-
hesion of substance, for if the iron be filed where it
\yas rubbed, yet it will draw or turn.

PHYSIOLOGICAL REMAINS.

Inquisitions touching the compounding of met ah.

JL O make proof of the incorporation of iron with
flint, or other stone. For if it can be incorporated
without over-great charge, or other incommodity, the
cheapness of the flint or stone doth make the com-
pound stuff profitable for divers uses. The doubts
may be three in number.

First, Whether they will incorporate at all, other-
wise than to a body that will not hold well together,
but become brittle and uneven ?

Secondly, Although it should incorporate well, yet
whether the stuff will not be so stubborn as it will
not work well with a hammer, whereby the charge in
working will overthrow the cheapness of the ma-
terial ?

Thirdly, Whether they will incorporate, except the
iron and stone be first calcined into powder ? And if
not, whether the charge of the calcination will not
cat out the cheapness of the material ?

The uses are most probable to be ; first for the im-
plements of the kitchen ; as spits, ranges, cobirons,
pots, etc. then for the wars, as ordnance, portcullises,
grates, chains, etc.

Note ; the finer works of iron are not so probable
to be served with such a stuff; as locks, clocks, small
chains, etc. because the stuff is not like to be tough
enough.

For the better use, in comparison of iron, it is like
the stuff will be far lighter: for the weight of iron to
flint is double and a third part ; and, secondly, it is
like to rust not so easily, but to be more clean.

The ways of trial are two : first, by the iron and
stone of themselves, wherein it must be inquired,
what are the stones that do easiliest melt. Secondly,

i 8 S Physiological Remains.

with an additament, wherein brimstone is approved
to help to the melting of iron or steef. But then it must
be considered, whether the charge of the additament
will not destroy the profit.

It must be known also, what proportion of the
stone the iron will receive to incorporate well with
it, and that with once roehing ; for if either the pro-
portion be too small, or that it cannot be received but
piece-meal by several meltings, the work caftnot be
of value.

To make proof of the incorporating of iron and
brass. For the cheapness of the iron ^comparison of
Ihe brass, if the uses maybe served, doth promise pro-
fit. The doubt will be touching their incorporating ;
for that it is approved, that iron will not incorporate,
neither with brass -nor other rrretals, of itself, by sim-
ple fire: so as the inquiry must be upon the calcina-
tion, and the additament, and the charge of them,

The uses will be for ssrch things as are now fl&acJeof
&* ass> and might be as- well served by tile compou-ml
stuff; wherein the doubts will be chiefly 'of the tough-
ness, and of the beauty.

First, therefore, if brass ordnance could be made of
the compound stuff, in respect of the cheapness of
the iron, it would be of great use.

The advantage which brass ordnance hath over
rron, is chiefly, as I suppose, because it will ' hokl the
blow, though it be driven far thinner than the iron can
be ; whereby itsavethbothin the quantify of the mate-
rial, and in the charge and commodity of moun ting.
and carriage, in regard, by reason of the th illness, it
beareth much less weight : there may be also some-
what in being not so easily over-heated.

Secondly, for the beauty. Those things wherein
the beauty or lustre are esteemed, are andirons, a"nd
all manner of images, and statues, and columns, and
tombs, and the like. So as the doubt will be-^iouble
for the beauty; the one, whether the colour will please
so well, because it will not be so like gold as brass?
The other, whether it will polish so well? Whereiit
for the latter it is probable it will ; for steel glosses are
more resplendent than the like plates of brass would

Physiological Remains.

be; and so is the glittering of a blade. And besides,
I take it, andiron brass, which they call white brass,
hath some mixture of tin to help the lustre. And for
the golden colour, it may be by some small mixture of
orpiment, such as they use to brass in the yellow al-
chemy 5 it will easily recover that which the iron loseth,
Of this the eye must be the judge upon proof made.

But now for pans, pots, curfews, counters, and the
like, the beauty will not be so much respected, so as
the compound stuff is like to pass.

For the better use of the compound stuff, it will be
sweeter and cleaner than brass alone, which yieldeth
a smell or soiliness ; and therefore may be better for
the vessels of the kitchen and brewing. It will also
be harder than brass, where hardness may be re-
quired.

For the trial, the doubtswillbe two : first; the over-
weight of brass towards iron, which will make iron
float on the top in the melting. This perhaps will be
holpen with thecalaminar stone, which consentethso
well with brass, and, as I take it, is lighter than iron.
The other doubt will be the stiffness and dryness of
iron to melt ; which must be holpen either by mois-
tening the iron, or opening it. For the first, perhaps
some mixture of lead will help. Which is as much
more liquid than brass, as iron is less liquid. The
opening may be holpen by some mixture of sulphur:
so as the trials would be with brass, iron, calamin
stone, and sulphur; and then again with the same
composition, and an addition of some lead; and in all
this the charge must be considered, whether it eat
not out the profit of the cheapness of iron ?

There be two proofs to be made of incorporation of
metals for magnificence and delicacy. The one for
the eye, and the other for the ear. Statue-metal, and
bell-metal, and trumpet-metal, and string-metal $ in
all these, though the mixture of brass or copper should
be dearer than the brass itself, yet the pleasure will
advance the price to profit.

First therefore for statue-metal, see Pliny's mix-
tures, which are almost forgotten, and consider the
charge.

1 90 Physiological Rcm ains.

Try likewise the mixture of tin in larger portion with
copper, and observe the colour and beauty, it being
polished. But chiefly let proof be made of the incor^
porating of copper or brass with glass-metal, for that
is cheap, and is like to add a great glory and shining.

For bell-metal. First, it is to be known what is
the composition which is now in use. Secondly, it is
probable that it is the dryness of the metal that doth
help the clearness of the sound, and the moistnessthat
dulleth it : and therefore the mixtures that are proba-
ble, are steel, tin, glass-metal.

For string-metal, or trumpet-metal, it is the same
reason ; save that glass-metal may not be used, be-
cause it will make it too brittle ; and trial may be
made with mixture of silver, it being but a delicacy,
with iron or brass.

To make proof of the incorporation of silver and
tin in equal quantity, or with two parts silver and one
part tin, and to observe whether it be of equal beauty
and lustre with pure silver; ,and also whether it yield
no soiliness more than silver? And again, whether it
will endure the ordinary fire which belongeth to chaf-
ing-dishes, posnets, and such other silver vessels?
And if it do not endure the fire, yet whether by some
mixture of iron it may not be made more fixt ? For if
it»be in beauty and all the uses aforesaid equal to sil-
ver, it were a thing of singular profit to the state, and
to all particular persons, to change silver plate or ves-
sels into the compound stuff, being a kind of silver
electrum, and to turn the rest into coin. It may be
also questioned, whether the compound stuff will re-
ceive gilding as well as silver, and with equal lustre ?
It is to be noted, that the common allay of silver
coin is brass, which doth discolour more, and is not
so neat as tin.

The drownings of metals within other metals, in
such sort as they can never rise agrin is a thing of great
profit. For if a quantity of silver can be so buried in
gold, as it wrill never be reduced again, neither by fire,
nor parting waters, nor otherwise : and also that it
serve all uses as well as pure gold, it is in effect aW

Physiological Remains'. 19 J

one as if so much silver were turned into gold ; only
the weight will discover it ; yet that taketh off but
half of the profit; for gold is not fully double weight
to silver, but gold is twelve times price to silver.

The burial must be by one of these two ways, either
by the smallness of the proportion, as perhaps fifty to
to one, which will be but six-pence gains in fifty
shillings; or it must be holpen by somewhat which
may fix the silver, never to be restored or vapoured
away, when it is incorporated into such a mass of
gold ; for the less quantity is ever the harder to sever :
and for this purpose iron is the likest, or coppel stuff,
upon which the fire hath no power of consumption.

The making of gold seemeth a thing scarcely pos-
sible ; because gold is the heaviest of metals, and to
add matter is impossible : and again, to drive metals
into a narrower room than their natural extent bear-
eth, is a condensation hardly to be expected. But
to make silver seemeth more easy, because both
quick-silver and lead are weightier than silver ; so as
there needeth only fixing, and not condensing. The
degree unto this that is already known, is infusing of
quick-silver in a parchment or otherwise, in the midst
of molten lead when it cooleth ; for this stupifieth the
quicksilver that it runneth no more. This trial is to
be advanced three ways. First, by iterating the melt-
ing of the lead, to see whether it will not make the
quick-silver harder and harder. Secondly, to put re-
algar hot into the midst of the quick-silver, whereby it
may be condensed, as well from within as without.
Thirdly, to try it in the midst of molten iron, or molten
steel, which is a body more likely to fix the quick-
silver than lead. It may be also tried, by incorpo-
rating powder of steel, or coppel dust, by pouncing,
into the quick-silver, and so to proceed to the stupi-
fying.

Upon glass four things should be put in proof. The
first, means to make the glass more crystalline. The
second, to make it more strong for falls, and for fire,
though it come not to the degree to be malleable.
The third, to make it coloured by tinctures, compar-

J 92 Physiological Remains.

able to or exceeding precious stones. The fourth, to
make a compound body of glass and galletyle ; that
is, to have the colour milky like a chalcedon, being a
stuff between a porcelane and a glass.

For the first, it is good first to know exactly the
several materials whereof the glass in use is made ;
window-glass, Normandy and Burgundy, ale-house
glass, English drinking-glass : and then thereupon to
consider what the reason is of the coarseness or clear-
ness ; and from thence to rise to a consideration how
to make some additaments to the coarser materials,
to raise them to the whiteness and crystalline splendor
of the finest.

For the second, we see pebbles, and some other
stones, will cut as fine as crystal, which if they will
melt, may be a mixture for glass, and may make it
more tough and more crystalline. Besides, we see
metals will vitrify ; and perhaps some portion of the
glass of metal vitrified, mixed in the pot of ordinary'
glass-metal, will make the whole mass more tough.

For the third, it were good to have of coloured win-
dow-glass, such as is coloured in the pot, and not by
colours

It is to be known of what stuff galletyle is made,
and how the colours in it are varied ; and thereupon
to consider how to make the mixture of glass-metal
and them, whereof I have seen the example.

Inquire what be the stones that do easiliest melt.
Of them take half a pound, and of iron a pound and a
half, and an ounce of brimstone, and see whether they
\vill incorporate, being whole, with a strong fire. If
' not, try the same quantities calcined : and if they will
incorporate, make a plate of them, and burnish it as
they do iron.

Take a pound and a half of brass, and halfapound
of iron ; two ounces of the calaminar stone, an ounce
and a half of brimstone, an ounce of lead ; calcine
them, and see what body they make; and if they in-
corporate, make a plate of it burnished.

Take of copper an ounce and a half, of tin an
ounce, and melt them together, and make a plate of
them burnished.

Physiological Remams. 193

Take of copperan ounce and a half, of tin an ounce,
of glass-metal half an ounce; stir them '?/ell in the
boiling, and if they incorporate, make a plate of them
burnished.

Take of copper a pound and a half, tin four ounces,
brass two ounces ; make a plate of them burnished.

Take of silver two ounces, tin half an ounce ; make
a little say-cup of it, and burnish it.

To inquire of the materials of every of the kind
of glasses, coarser and finer, and of the proportions.

Take an equal quantity of glass-metal, of stone cal-
cined, and bring a pattern.

Take an ounce of vitrified metal, and a pound of
ordinary glass-metal, and see whether they will incor-
porate, and bring a pattern.

Bring examples of all coloured glasses, and learn
the ingredients whereby they are coloured,

Inquire of the substance of galletyle,

VOL. n.

ARTICLES OF QUESTIONS

TOUCHING

MINERALS.

THE LORD BACON'S QUESTIONS,

WITH
DR. MEVEREL'S SOLUTIONS.

Concerning the compounding, incorporating, or union of
metals or minerals. Which subject is the first letter
of his Lordship 's Alphabet.

W ITH what metals gold will incorporate by sim-
ple colliquefaction, and with what not ? And in
what quantity it will incorporate; and what kind of
body the compound makes ?

Gold with silver, which was the ancient electrum ;•
gold with quick-silver : gold with lead : gold with
copper: gold with brass: gold with iron: gold with
tin.

So likewise of silver: silver with quick-silver: sil-
ver with lead : silver with copper: silver with brass:
silver with iron: Plinius secund. lib. xxxiii. 9. Mis-
Cidt denario triumvir Antoniusf err urn > silver with tin.

So likewise of quick-silver : quick-silver with lead ;
quicksilver with copper: quick-silver with brass:
quick-silver with iron : quick-silver with tin.

So of lead ; lead with copper : lead with brass ;
lead with iron : lead with tin. ' Pliji, xxxiv. 9.

So of copper: copper with brass; copper with
iron : copper with tin,

So of brass: brass with iron: brass with tin.

So of iron : iron with tin,

What be the compound metals that are common
and known? And what are the proportions of their
mixtures ? As,

Latten of brass, and the calaminar stone.

Physiological Remains. 193

Pewter of tin and lead.

BeJJ-metal of etc. and the counterfeit plate, which
they call alchemy.

The decomposites of three metals or more, are too
long to inquire of, except there be some compositions
of them already observed.

It is also to be observed, whether any two metals
which will not mingle of themselves, will mingle
with the help of another; and what.

What compounds will be made of metal with stone
and other fossils; as latten is made with brass and the
calaminar stone ; as all the metals incorporate with
vitriol ; all with iron powdered ; all with flint, etc.

Some few of these should be inquired of, to disclose
the nature of the rest.

Whether metals or other fossils will incorporate
with molten glass, and what body it makes ?

The quantity in the mixture should be well consi-
dered ; for some small quantity perhaps will incorpo-
rate, as in the allays of gold and silver coin.

Upon the compound body, three things are chiefly
to be observed : the colour ; the fragility or pliantness >
the volatility or fixation, compared with the simple
bodies.

For present use or profit, this is the rule : consider
the price of the two simple bodies ; consider again
the dignity of the one above the other in use ; then
see if you can make a compound, that will save more
in price, than it will lose in dignity of the use.

As for example ; consider the price of brass ord-
nance ; consider again the price of iron ordnance, and
then consider wherein the brass ordnance doth excel
the iron ordnance in use; then if you can make a com-
pond of brass and iron that will be near as good in
use, and much cheaper in price, then there is profit
both to the private and the commonwealth. So of
gold and silver, the price is double of twelve: the dig-
nity of gold above silver is not much, the splendour
is alike, and more pleasing to some eyes, as in cloth of
silver, silvered rapiers, etc. The main dignity is, that
gold bears the fire, which silver doth not: but that is

o 2

196 Physiological Remains.

an excellency in nature, but it is nothing at all in use ;
for any dignity in use I know none, but that silvering
will sully and caqker more than gilding ; which if it
might be corrected with a little mixture of gold, there
Is profit: and I do somewhat marvel that the latter
ages have lost the ancient electrwn, which was a mix-
ture of silver with gold : whereof I conceive there
may be much use, both in coin, plate, and gilding,

It is to be noted, that there is in the version of mer
tals impossibility, or at least great difficulty, as in.
making of gold, silver, copper. On the other side, in
the adulterating or counterfeiting of metals, there is
deceit and yillany. But it should seem there is a
middle way, and that is by new compounds, if the
ways of incorporating were well known,

What incorporation or imbibition metals will rer
ceive from vegetables, without being dissolved in their
substance: as when the armourers make their steel
more tough and pliant, by aspersion of water or juice
pf herbs $ when gold being grown somewhat churlish
by recovering, is made more pliant by throwing in
shreds of tanned leather, or by leather oiled.

Note, that in these and the like shews of imbibi?
tion, it were good to try by the weights, whether the
weight be increased, or ho; for if it be not, it is to
be doubted that there is no imbibition of substance,
but only that the application of that other body doth
dispose and invite the metal to another posture of
parts, than of itself it would have taken.

After the incorporation of metals by simple colli-
quefaction, for the better discovery of the nature and
consents and dissents of metals, it should be likewise
tried by incorporating of their dissolutions. What
metals being dissolved in strong waters will incorpo-
rate well together, and what not ? Which is to be
inquired particularly, as it was in colliquefactions.

There is to be observed in those dissolutions which
will not easily incorporate, what the effects are : as
the bullition ; the precipitation to the bottom; the
ejaculation towards the top; the suspension in the
midst ; and the like.

Physiological Remains-. 1 97

Note, that the dissents of the menstrual or strong
waters may hinder the incorporation, as well as the
dissents of the metals themselves 3 therefore where
the menstrua are the same, and yet the incorporation
folio weth not, you may conclude the dissent is in tile
metals ; but where the menstrua are several, not so
certain.

Dr. Mevcrel's answers to the foregoing questions, con-
cerning the compounding, incorporating, or union of
metals and minerals.

GOLD will incorporate with silver in any propor-
tion. Plin. lib. xxxiii. cap. 4. — Omni auro inest ar+
gentum vario pondere ; alibi dena, alibi nona, alibi vctavct
parte — Ubicunque quinta argenti portio invenitur, dec-
triim vocatur. The body remains fixt, solid, and co-
loured, according to the proportion of the two metals*

Gold with quick-silver easily mixeth, but the pro-
duct is imperfectly fixed; and so are all other metals
incorporate with mercury*

Gold incorporates with lead in any proportion.

Gold incorporates with copper in any proportion,
the common allay.

Gold incorporates with brass in any proportion.
And what is said of copper is true of brass, in the
union of other metals.

Gold will not incorporate with iron.

Gold incorporates with tin, the ancientallay. Isa.i. 25.

What was said of gold and quick-silver, may be
said of quick-silver and the rest of metals.

Silver with lead in any proportion.

Silver incorporates with copper. Pliny mentions
such a mixture for triumphalcs status, lib. xxxiii. 9.
Miscenlur argento, tertia pars ceris Cyprii tenuissimi,
quod coronarium vacant, et sulphur is vim quantum ar-
genti. The same is true of brass.

Silver incorporates not with iron. Wherefore I won-
der at that which Pliny hath, lib. xxxiii. 9. Miscuit
denario triumvir Antoniusferrum. And what is said
of this is true in the rest ; for iron incorporate^ with
none of them.

Silver mixes with tin,

Physiological Remains.

Lead incorporates with copper. Such a mixture
was the pot-metal whereof Pliny speaks, lib. xxxiv. 9.
Term's ant qudternis libris plumb i argentarii in centenas
aeris additis.

Lead incorporates with tin. The mixture of these
, two in equal proportions, is that which was anciently
called plumbum argentarium, Piin. lib. xxxiv. 17.

Copper incorporates with tin. Of such a mixture
were the mirrors of the Romans. Plin. Atque ut om-
nia de speculis peragantur hoc loco, optima apud majores
Grant Brundusina, stanno ettere mistis. Lib. xxxiii. 9.

Compound metals now in use.

1. Fine tin. The mixture is thus : pure tin a thou-
sand pounds, temper fifty pounds, glass of tin three
pounds.

2. Coarse pewter is made of fine tin and lead.
Temper is thus made : the dross of pure tin, four
pounds and a half; copper, half a pound.

3. Brass is made of copper and calaminaris.

4. Bell-metal. Copper, a thousand pounds; tin,
from three hundred to two hundred pounds ; brass, a
hundred and fifty pounds.

5. Pot-metal, copper and lead.

6. White alchemy is made of pan-brass one pound,
and arsenicum three ounces.

7. Red alchemy is made of copper and auripig-
ment.

There be divers imperfect minerals, which will in-
corporate with the metals: being indeed metals in-
wardly, but clothed with earths and stones : as pyritis,
calaminarist misyy chaldtisy sory, vitriolum.

Metals incorporate not with glass, except they be
brought into the form of glass.

Metals dissolved. The dissolution of gold arid
silver disagree, so that in their mixture there is great
ebullition, darkness, and in the end a precipitation of
a black powder.

The mixture of gold and mercury agree.

Gold agrees with iron. In a word, the dissolution
of mercury and iron agree with all the rest.

Physiological Remains. 1 99

Silver and copper disagree, and so do silver and
lead. Silver and tin agree.

The second letter of the cross-row, touching the separa*
(ion of metals and minerals.

SEPARATION is of three sorts ; the first, is the
separating of the pure metal from the ore or dross,
which we call refining. The second is, the drawing
one metal or mineral out of another, which we call
extracting. The third is, the separating of any me-
tal into its original or mater ia prima, or element, or
call them what you will ; which work we will call
principiation.

1 . For refining, we are to inquire of it according to
the several metals ; as gold, silver, etc. Incidentally
we are to inquire of the first stone, or ore, or spar, or
marcasite of metals severally, and what kind of bodies <
they are, and of the degrees of richness. Also we
are to inquire of the means of separating, whether by
fire, parting waters, or otherwise. Also for the man-
ner of refining, you are to see how you can multiply
the heat, or hasten the opening, and so save the charge
in the fining.

The means of this in three manners ; that is to say,
in the blast of the fire; in the manner of the furnace,
to multiply heat by union and reflexion ; and by some
additament, or medicines which wrill help the bodies
to open them the sooner.

Note, the quickningof the blast, and the multiply-
ing of the heat in the Furnace, may be the same for all
metals; but the additaments must be several, accord-
ing to the nature of the metals. Note again, that if
you think that multiplying of the additaments in the
same p/oportion that you multiply the ore, the work
will follow, you may be deceived : for quantity in the
passive will add more resistance, than the same quan-
tity in the active will add force.

2. For extracting, you are to inquire what metals
contain others, and likewise what not; as lead, silver ;
copper, silver, etc.

Note; although the charge of extraction should ex-

200 Physiological Remains.

ceed the worth, yet that is not the matter : for at
least it will discover nature and possibility, the other
may be thought on afterwards.

We are likewise to inquire, what the differences are
of those metals which contain more or less other
metals, and how that agrees with the poorness or
richness of the metals or ore in themselves. As the
lead that contains most silver is accounted to be more
brittle, and yet otherwise poorer in itself.

3. For principiation, I cannot affirm whether there
be any such thing or not ; and I think the chemists
make too much ado about it : but howsoever it be, be
it solution or extraction, or a kind of conversion by
the fire ; it is diligently to be inquired what salts, sul-
phur, vitriol, mercury, or the like simple bodies are to
be found in the several metals, and in what quantity.

Di\ MevereUs answers to the foregoing questions, touch'
ing the separations of metals and minerals.

1 . FOR the means of separating. After that the ore
Is washed, or cleansed from the earth, there is nothing
simply necessary, save only a wind furnace well fram-
ed, narrow above and at the hearth, in shape oval,
sufficiently fed with charcoal and ore, in convenient
proportions.

For additions in this first separation, I have ob-
served none ; the dross the mineral brings being suf-
ficient. The refiners of iron observe, that that iron-
stone is hardest to melt which is fullest of metal, and
that easiest which hath most dross. But in lead and
tin the contrary is noted. Yet in melting of metals,
when they have been calcined formerly by fire, or
strong waters, there is good use of additaments, as
'of borax, tartar, armoniac, and salt-petre.

2. In extracting of metals. Note, that lead and
tin contain silver. Lead and silver contain gold. Iron
contains brass. Silver is best separated from lead by
the test. So gold from silver. Yet the best way for
that is aqua regia*

3. For principiation. I can truly and boldly affirm,
that-there are no such principals as sal, sulphur,' and
mercury, which can be separated from any perfect

Physiological Remains. 20 1

metals. For every part so separated, may easily be
reduced into perfect metal without substitution of
that, or those principles which chemists imagine to be
wanting. As suppose you take the salt of lead ; this
salt, or as some name it, sulphur, may be turned into
perfect lead, by melting it with the like quantity
of lead which contains principles only for itself.

I acknowledge that there is quicksilver and brim-
stone found in the imperfect minerals : but those are
nature's remote materials, and not the chemist's prin-
ciples. As if you dissolve antimony by aqua rcgia,
there will be real brimstone swimming upon the water:
as appears by the colour of the fire when it is burnt,
and by the smell.

.The third letter of the cross-row, touching the varia-
tion of 'metals into several shapes, bodies or natures,
the particulars whereof follow.

TINCTURE : turning to rust : calcination : sub-
limation: precipitation: amalgamating, or turning
into a soft body : vitrification : opening or dissolving
into liquor : sproutings, or branchings, or arbore-
scents : induration and mollification : making tough
or brittle : volatility and fixation : transmutation or
version.

For tincture: it is to be inquired how metal may
be tinged through and through, and with what, and
into what colours ; as tinging silver yellow, tinging
copper white, and tinging red, green, blue } especi-
ally with keeping the lustre.

Item, tincture of glasses.

Item, tincture of marble, flint, or other stone.

For turning into rust, two things are chiefly to be
inquired ; by what corrosives it is done, and into
what colours it turns ; as lead into white, which they
call ceruss ; iron into yellow, which they call crocus
mart is } quicksilver into vermilion; brass into green,
which they call verdegrease.

For calcination ; how every metal is calcined, and
into what kind of body, and what is the exquisitest
way of calcination.

2O2 Physiological Remains.

For sublimation ; to inquire the manner of sublim-
ing, and what metals endure subliming, and what
body the sublimate makes.

For precipitation likewise ; by what strong water
every metal will precipitate, and with what addita-
ments, and in what time, and into what body.

So for amalgama ; what metals will endure it, what
are the means to do it, and what is the manner of
the body.

For vitrification likewise ; what metals will endure
it, what are the means to do it, into what colour it
turns ; and farther, where the whole metal is turned
into glass, and where the metal doth but hang in the
glassy parts; also what weight the vitrified body bears,
compared with the crude body ; also because vitrifica-
tion is accounted a kind of death of metals, what vi-
trification will admit of turning back again, and
* what not.

For dissolution into liquor, we are to inquire what
is the proper menstruum to dissolve any metal, and in
the negative, what will touch upon the one and not
upon the other, and what several menstrua will dis-
solve any metal, and which most exactly. Item, the
process or motion of the dissolution, the manner of
rising, boiling, vapouring more violent, or more gentle,
causing much heat or less. Item, the quantity or
charge that the strong water will bear, and then
give over. Item, the colour into which the liquor
will turn. Above all, it is to be inquired, whe-
ther there be any menstruum to dissolve any me-
tal that is not fretting, or corroding ; and openeth the
body by sympathy 3 and not by mordacity or violent
penetration.

For sprouting or branching, though it be a thing
but transitory, and a kind of toy or pleasure, yet
. there is a more serious use of it ; for that it discover-
eth the delicate motions of spirits, when they put
forth and cannot get forth, like unto that which is in
Vegetables.

For induration, or mollification ; it is to be inquired
what will make metals harder and harder, and what

Physiological Remains.

will make them softer and softer. And this inquiry
tendeth to two ends : first, for use ; as to make iron soft
by the fire makes it malleable. Secondly, because in-
duration is a degree towards fixation, and mollifica-
tion towards volatility ; and therefore the inquiry of
them will give light towards the other.

For tough and brittle, they are much of the same
kind, but yet worthy of an inquiry apart, especially
to join hardness with toughness, as making glass mal-
leable, etc. and making blades strong to resist and
pierce, and yet not easy to break.

For volatility and fixation. It is a principal branch
to be inquired : the utmost degree of fixation is that
whereon no fire will work, nor strong water joined
with fire, if there be any such fixation possible. The
next is, when fire simply will not work without strong
waters. The next is by the test. The next is when
it will endure fire not blown, or such a strength of fire.
The next is when it will not endure, but yet is malle-
able. The next is when it is not malleable, but
yet is not fluent, but stupified. So of volatility, the
utmost degree is when it will fly away without return-
ing. The next is when it will fly up, but with ease
return. The next is when it will fly upwards over the
helm by a kind of exsufRation without vapouring.
The next is when it will melt though not rise. The
next is when it will soften though not melt. Of all
these diligent inquiry is to be made in several metals,
especially of the more extreme degrees.

For transmutation or version. If it be real and true,
it is the farthest part of art, and should be well distin-
guished from extraction, from restitution, and from
adulteration. I hear much of turning iron into cop-
per ; I hear also of the growth of lead in weight,
which cannot be without a conversion of some body
into lead : but whatsoever is of this kind, and well
expressed, is diligently to be inquired and set down.

Physiological Remains.

Dr. Merer el's answers to the foregoing questions, con*
cerning the variation of metals and minerals.

1. FOR tinctures, there are none that I know, but
that rich variety which springs from mixture of metals
with metals, or imperfect minerals.

2. The imperfect metals are subject to rust, all of
them except mercury, which is made into vermilion
by solution or calcination. The rest are rusted by
any salt, sour, or acid water. Lead into a white body
called cerussa. Iron into a pale red called ferrugo.
Copper is turned into green, named tcrugo., <£s viride.
Tin into white : but this is not in use, neither hath it
obtained a name.

The Scriptures mention the rust of gold, but that is
in regard of the allay.

3. Calcination. All metals may be calcined by
strong waters, or by admixtion of salt, sulphur, and
mercury. The imperfect metals may be calcined by
continuance of simple fire j iron thus calcined is called
crocus martis.

And this is their best way. Gold and silver are
best calcined by mercury. Their colour is grey. Lead
calcined is very red. Copper dusky red.

4. Metals are sublimed by joining them with mer-
cury or salts. As silver with mercury, gold with sal
armoniac, mercury with vitriol.

5. Precipitation is, when any metal being dissolved
into a strong water, is beaten down into a powder by
salt water. The chiefest in this kind is oil of tartar.

6. Amalgamation is the joining or mixing of mer-
cury with any Other of the metals. The manner is
this in gold, the rest are answerable: take six parts of
mercury, make them hot in a crucible, and pour them
to one part of gold made red hot in another crucible,
stir these well together that they may incorporate ;
which clone, cast the mass into cold water and wash
it. This is called the amalgama of gold.

7. For vitrification. All the imperfect metals may
be turned by strong fire into glass, except mercury ;
iron into green 5 lead into yellow j brass into blue \

Physiological Remains. 205

tin into pale yellow. For gold and silver I have not
know them vitrified, except joined with antimony.
These glassy bodies may be reduced into the form of
mineral bodies.

8. Dissolution. All metals without exception may
be dissolved,

(1.) Iron may be dissolved by any tart, salt, or vi-
triolated water ; yea by common water, if it be first
calcined with sulphur. It dissolves in aqua fortis,
with great ebullition and heat, into a red liquor so red
as blood.

(2.) Lead is fittest dissolved in vinegar, into a pale
yellow, making the vinegar very sweet.

(3.) Tin is best dissolved with distilled salt water.
It retains the colour of the menstruum.

(4.) Copper dissolves as iron doth, in the same li-
quor, into a blue.

(5.) Silver hath its proper menstruum, which is aqua
fortis, The colour is green, with great heat and ebul-
lition.

(6.) Gold is dissolved with aqua regia, into a yellow
liquor, with little heat or ebullition.

(7.) Mercury is dissolved with much heat and boil-
ing, into the same liquors which gold and silver are.
It alters not the colour of the menstruum.

Note. Strong waters may be charged with half
fheir weight of fixed metals, and equal of mercury;
if the workman be skilful.

(9.) Sprouting, This is an accident of dissolution.
For if the menstruum be overcharged, then within
short time the metals will shoot into certain crystals.

(10.) For induration or mollification, they depend
upon the quantity of fixed mercury and sulphur. I have
observed little of them, neither of toughness nor brit-
tleness.

(11.) The degrees of fixation and volatility I ac-
knowledge, except the two utmost, which never were
observed.

(12.) The question of transmutation is very doubt-
ful. Wherefore I refer your honour to the fourth
tome olTheatrum Chymicum: and there, to that tract

206 Physiological Remains.

which is intitled Disquisitio Hcliana; where you shall
find full satisfaction.

Tfie fourth letter of the cross-rozv, touching restitution.

FIRST, therefore, it is to be inquired in the nega-
tive, what bodies will never return, either by their
extreme fixings, as in some vitrifications, or by ex-
treme volatility.

It is also to be inquired of the two means of re-
duction ; and first by the fire, which is but by con-
gregation of homogeneal parts.

The second is, by drawing them down by some
body that hath consent with them. As iron draweth
down copper in water ; gold draweth quicksilver in
vapour ; whatsoever is of this kind, is very diligently
to be inquired.

Also it is to be inquired what time, or age, will
reduce without help of fire or body.

Also it is to be inquired what gives impediment to
union or restitution, which is sometimes called mor-
tification ; as when quicksilver is mortified with tur-
pentine, spittle, or butter.

Lastly, it is to be inquired, how the metal restored,
differeth in any thing from the metal rare : as whether
it become not more churlish, altered in colour, or
the like..

Dr. MevereVs answers touching the restitutions of metals
and minerals.

REDUCTION is chiefly effected by fire, wherein
if they stand and nele, the imperfect metals vapour
away, and so do all manner of salts which separated
them in minimas paries before.

Reduction is singularly holpen; by joining store of
metal of the same nature with it in the melting.

Metals reduced are somewhat churlish, but not
altered in colour.

Physiological Remains,

The Lord VERULAM'S INQUISITION

Concerning the versions, transmutations, multiplications f
and effections of bodies.

EARTH by fire is turned into brick, which is of
the nature of a stone, and serveth for building, as
Stone doth : and the like of tile. Query, the manner.

Naphtha, which was the bituminous mortar used in
the walls of Babylon, grows to an intire and very
hard matter like a stone.

In clay countries, where there is pebble and gravel,
you shall find great stones, where you may see the
pebbles or gravel, and between them a substance of
stone as hard or harder than the pebble itself,

There are some springs of water, wherein if you put
wood, it will turn into the nature of stone : so as that
within the water shall be stone, and that above the
water continue wood.

The slime about the reins and bladder in a man's
body, turns into stone : and stone is likewise found
often in the gall ; and sometimes, though rarely, in
vena port a.

Query, what time the substance of earth in quarries
asketh to be turned into stone ?

Water, as it seems, turneth into crystal, as is seen
jn divers qaves, where the crystal hangs in stillicidiis.

Try wood, or the stalk of herbs, buried in quick-
silver, whether it will not grow hard and stony.

They speak of a stone ingendered in a toad's head^

There was a gentleman, digging in his moat, found
an egg turned into stone, the white and the yolk
keeping their colour, and the shell glistering like a
stone cut with corners.

Try some things put into the bottom of a well ; as
wood, or some soft substance : but let it not touch
the water, because it may not putrify.

They speak, that the white of an egg, with lying
long in the sun, will turn stone.

Mud in water turns into shells of fishes, as in
Jiorse-mussels, in fresh ponds, old and overgrown.

20S Physiological Remains.

And the substance is a wondrous fine substance, light
and shining.

A SPEECH touching the recovering of drowned
mineral works.

Prepared for the parliament (as Mr. Bushel affirmed)
by the. Viscount of St. Albansy then Lord High Chan-
cellor of England*.

My lords and gentlemen,

THE king, my royal master, was lately graciously
pleased to move some discourse to me concerning
Mr. Sutton's hospital, and such like worthy founda-
tions of memorable piety : which humbly seconded
by myself, drew his majesty into a serious considera-
tion of the mineral treasures of his own territories,
and the practical discoveries of them by way of my
philosophical theory : which he then so well resented,
that afterwards, upon a mature digestion of my whole
design, he commanded me to let your lordships under-
stand, how great an inclination he hath to further
so hopeful a work, for the honour of his dominions,
as the most probable means to relieve all the poor
thereof, without any other stock or benevolence, than
that which divine bounty should confer on their own
industries and honest labours, in recovering all such
drowned mineral works, as have been, or shall be
therefore deserted.

And, my lords, all that is now desired of his ma-
jesty and your lordships, is no more than a gracious
act of this present parliament to authorise them herein,
adding a mercy to a munificence, which is, the per-
sons of such strong and able petty-felons, who, in
true penitence for their crimes, shall implore his ma-
jesty's mercy and permission to expiate their offences
by their assiduous labours in so innocent and hopeful
a work.

For by this unchangeable way, my lords, have I
proposed to erect the academical fabric of this island's

* Sec Mr. Bee's extract, p. 18, 19.

Physiological Remains. 2C9

Solomon's House, modelled in my new Atlantis. And
I can hope, my lords, that my midnight studies, to
make our countries flourish and outvie European
neighbours in mysterious and beneficent arts, have
not so ungratefully affected your noble intellects, that
you will delay or resist his majesty's desires, and my
humble petition in this benevolent, yea, magnificent
affair ; since your honourable posterities may be en-
riched thereby, and my ends are only to make the
world my heir, and the learned fathers of my Solo-
mon's House, the successive and sworn trustees in the
dispensation of this great service, for God's glory, my
prince's magnificence, this parliament's honour, our
country's general good, and the propagation of my
own memory.

And I may assure your lordships, that all my pro-
posals in order to this great architype, seemed so ra-
tional and feasible to my royal sovereign, our Christian
Solomon, that I thereby prevailed with his majesty to
call this honourable parliament, to confirm and im-
power me in my own way of mining, by an act of
the same, after his majesty's more weighty affairs
were considered in your wisdoms ; both which he
desires your lordships, and you gentlemen that are
chosen as the patriots of your respective countries,
to take speedy care of: which done, I shall not then
doubt the happy issue of my undertakings in this de-
sign, whereby concealed treasures, which now seem
utterly lost to mankind, shall be confined to so uni-
versal a piety, and brought into use by the industry of
converted penitents, whose wretched carcases the im-
partial laws have, or shall dedicate, as untimely feasts,
to the worms of the earth, in whose womb those de-
serted mineral riches must ever lie buried as lost
abortments, unless those be made the active, midwives
to deliver them. For, my lords, I humbly conceive
them to be the fittest of all men to effect this great
work, for the ends and causes which I have before
expressed.

All which, my lords, I humbly refer to your grave
and solid judgments to conclude of; together with

VOL. II. P

2 1 0 Physiological Remains.

such other assistances to this frame, as your own
oraculous wisdom shall intimate, for the magnifying
our Creator in his inscrutable providence, and ad-
mirable works of nature.

Certain experiments made by the Lord BACON about
weight in air and water.

A NEW sovereign of equal weight in the air to
the piece in brass, overweigheth in the water nine
grains : in three sovereigns the difference in the
water is but twenty-four grains.

The same sovereign overweigheth an equal weight
of lead, four grains in the water : in brass grains for
gold : in three sovereigns about eleven grains.

The same sovereign overweigheth an equal weight
of stones in the air, at least sixty-five grains in the
water; the grains being for the weight of gold in
brass metal.

A glass filled with water weighing, in Troy weights,
thirteen ounces and five drams, the glass and the water
together weigheth severally, namely, the water nine
ounces and a half, and the glass four ounces and a
dram.

A bladder weighing two ounces seven drams and
a half, a pebble laid upon the top of the bladder
makes three ounces six drams and a half, the stone
weigheth seven drams.

The bladder as above, blown, and the same fallen,
weigheth equal.

A sponge dry weigheth one ounce twenty-six
grains : the same sponge being wet, weigheth four-
teen ounces six drams and three quarters : the water
weigheth in several eleven ounces one dram and a
half, and the sponge three ounces and a half, and
three quarters of a dram. First time.

The sponge and water together weigh fifteen ounces
and seven drams : in several, the water weigheth
eleven ounces and seven drams, and the sponge three
ounces seven drams and a half. Second time.

Three sovereigns made equal to a weight in silver
in the air, differ in the water.

Physiological Remains. 2 1 1

For false weights, one beam long, the other thick.

The stick and thread weigh half a dram, and
twenty grains, being laid in the balance.

The stick tied to reach within half an inch of the
end of the beam, and so much from the tongue,
weigheth twenty-eight grains ; the difference Is
twenty-two grains.

The same stick being tied to hang over the end of
the beam an inch and a half, weigheth half a dram
and twenty-four grains, exceeding the weight of the
said stick in the balance by four grains.

The same stick being hanged down beneath the
thread, as near the tongue as is possible, weigheth
only eight grains.

Two weights of gold being made equal in the air,^
and weighing severally seven drams; the one balance
being put into the water, and the other hanging in
the air, the balance in the water weigheth only five
drams and three grains, and abateth of the weight in
the air, one dram and a Jialf, and twenty-seven
grains.

The same trial being made the second time, and
more truly and exactly betwixt gold and gold, weigh-
ing severally, as above ; and making a just and equal
weight in the air, the one balance being put into the
water the depth of five inches, and the other hanging
in the air, the balance in the water weigheth only
four drams, and fifty-five grains, and abateth of the
weight in the air two drams and five grains.

The trial being made betwixt lead and lead, weigh-
ing severally seven drams in the air, the balance in the
water weigheth only four drams and forty-one grains,
and abateth of the weight in the air two drams and
nineteen grains; the balance kept the same depth in
the water as abovesaid.

The trial being made betwixt silver and silver,
weighing severally seven drams in the air, the balance
in the water weigheth only four drams and twenty-
five grains. So it abateth two drams and thirty-five
grains ; the same depth in the water observed.

Jn iron and iron, weighing severally each balance in
p 2

2 1 2 Physiological Remains.

the air seven drams, the balance in the water weigh-
eth only four drams and eighteen grains ; and abateth
of the weight in the air two drams and forty-two
grains ; the depth observe as above.

In stone and stone, the same weight of seven
drams equally in the air, the balance in the water
weigheth only two drams and twenty-two grains;
and abateth of the weight in the air four drams and
thirty-eight grains ; the depth as above.

In brass and brass, the same weight of seven drams
in each balance, equal in. the air, the balance in the
water weigheth only four drams and twenty-two
grains; and abateth in the water two drams and
thirty-eight grains ; the depth observed.
r The two balances being weighed in air and water,
the balance in the air over-weigheth the other in the
water one dram and twenty-eight grains ; the depth
in the water as aforesaid.

It is a profitable experiment which sheweth the
weights of several bodies in comparison with water.
It is of use in lading of ships, and other bottoms, and
may help to shew what burden in the several kinds
they will bear.

Certain sudden thoughts of the Lord BACON'.*-, set
down by him under the title of EXPERIMENTS FOR
PROFIT.

MUCK of leaves: muck of river, earth, and
chalk : muck of earth closed, 'both for salt-petre and
muck: setting of wheat and peas: mending of crops
by steeping of seeds : making peas, cherries, and
strawberries come early : strengthening of earth for
often returns of radishes, parsnips, turnips, etc. mak-
ing great roots of onions, radishes, and other esculent
roots: sowing of seeds of trefoil: setting of woad :
setting of tobacco, and taking away the rawns : graft-
ing upon boughs of old trees: making of a hasty cop-
pice : planting of osiers in wet grounds: making of
candles to last long: building of chimnies, furnaces,
and ovens, to give heat with less wood : fixing of log-
wood : other means to make yellow and green fixed:

Physiological Remains. 2 1 3

conserving of oranges, lemons, citrons, pomegranates,
etc. all summer : recovering of pearl, coral, turcoise
colour, by a conservatory ot snow : sowing of fennel :
brewing with hay, haws, trefoil, broom, hips, bramble
berries, woodbines, wild thyme, instead of hops, this-
tles : multiplying and dressing artichokes.

Certain experiments of the Lord BACON 's, about the com-
mixture of liquors only, not solids, without heat or.
agitation, but only by simple composition and settling.

SPIRIT of wine mingled with common water,
although it be rovich lighter than oil, yet so as if the
first fall be broken, by means of a sop, or otherwise,
it stayeth above j and*if it be once mingled it severeth
not again, as oil doth. Tried with water coloured
with saffron.

Spirit of wine mingled with common water hath a
kind of clouding, and motion shewing no ready com-
mixture. Tried with saffron.

A dram of gold dissolved in aqua regis, with a dram
of copper in aquafortis, commixed, gave agreeh co-
lour, but no visible motion in the parts. Note, that
the dissolution of the gold was, twelve parts water to
one part body : and of the copper was, six parts wa-
ter to one part body.

Oil of almonds commixed with spirit of wine, se-
vereth, and the spirit of wine remaineth on the top,
and the oil at the bottom.

Gold dissolved, commixed with spirit of wine, a
dram of each, doth commix, and no other apparent
alteration.

Quick-silver dissolved with gold dissolved, a dram
of each, doth turn to a mouldy liquor, black, and like
smiths water.

Note, the dissolution of the gold was twelve parts
water ut supra, and one part metal ; that of water was
two parts, and one part metal.

Spirit of wine and quick-silver commixed, a dram
of each, at the first shewed a white milky substance a£
the top, but soon after mingled.

Oil of vitriol commixed with oil of cloves, a dram

214- Physiological Be ma his.

of each, turneth into a red dark colour; and a sub-
stance thick almost like pitch, and upon the first mo-
tion gathereth an extreme heat, not to be endured by-
touch.

Dissolution of gold, and oil of vitriol commixed, a
dram of each, gathereth a great heat at the first, and
darkeneth the gold, and maketh a thick yellow.

Spirit of wine and oil of vitriol, a dram of each,
hardly mingle; the oil of vitriol going to the bottom,
and the spirit of wine lying above in a milky sub-
stance. It gathereth also a great heat, and a sweet>
ness in the taste.

Oil of vitriol and dissolution of quick-silver, a dram
pf each, maketh an extreme strife, and casteth up a
very gross fume, and after casteth down a white kind
of curds, or sands; and on the top a slimish substance,
and gathereth a great heat,

Oil of sulphur and oil of cloves commixed, a dram
of each, turn into a thick and red-coloured substance ;
but no such heat as appeared in the commixture with
the oil of vitriol.

Oil of petroleum, and spirit of wine, a dram of
each, intermingled otherwise than by agitation, as
wine and water do ; and the petroleum remaineth oil
the top,

Oil of vitriol and petroleum, a dram of each, turn
into a mouldy substance, and gathereth some warmth;
there residing a black cloud at the bottom, and a
monstrous thick oil on the top.

Spirit of wine and red-wine vinegar, one ounce
of each, at the first fall, one of them remaineth above,
but by agitation they mingle.

Oil of vitriol and oil of almonds, one ounce of each,
mingle not; but the oil of almonds remaineth above.

Spirit of wine and vinegar, an ounce of each, com-
mixed, do mingle, without any apparent separation,
which might be in respect of the colour.

Dissolution of iron, and oil of vitriol, a dram of
each, do first put a milky substance into the bottom,
and after incorporate into a mouldy substance.

Spirit of wine commixed with milk, a third part

Physiological Remains. 215

spirit of wine, and two parts milk, coagulateth little,
but mingleth ; and the spirit swims not above.

Milk and oil of almonds mingled, in equal portions,
do hardly incorporate, but the oil cometh above, the
milk being poured in last ; and the milk appeareth in
some drops or bubbles.

Milk one ounce, oil of vitriol a scruple, doth coa-
gulate 5 the milk at the bottom, where the vitriol
goeth.

Dissolution of gum tragacanth, and oil of sweet al-
monds, do not commingle, the oil remaining on the
top till they be stirred, and make the mucilage some-
what more liquid.

Dissolution of gum tragacanth one ounce and a
half, with half an ounce of spirit of wine being com-
mixed by agitation, make the mucilage more thick.

The white of an egg with spirit of wine, doth bake
the egg into clots, as if it began to poch.

One ounce of blood, one ounce of milk, do easily
incorporate.

Spirit of wine doth curdle the blood.

One ounce of whey unclarified, one ounce of oil of
vitriol, make no apparent alteration.

One ounce of blood, one ounce of oil of almonds,
incorporate not, but the oil swims above.

Three quarters of an ounce of wax being dissolved
upon the fire, and an ounce of oil of almonds put to-
gether and stirred, do n«t so incorporate, but that
when it is cold the wax gatliereth and swims upon the
top of the oil.

One ounce of oil of almonds cast into an ounce of
sugar seething, sever presently, the sugar shooting
towards the bottom.

A catalogue of bodies, attractive and not attractive, to-
gether with experimental observations about attrac-
tion.

THESE following bodies draw: amber, jet, dia-
mond, sapphire, carbuncle, irjs, the gem opale, ame-
thyst, bristollina, crystal, clear glass, glass of antimony,
divers flowers from mines, sulphur, mastic, hard seal-
ing-wax, the harder rosin, arsenic.

21 6 Physiological Remains.

These following bodies do not draw: smaragd,
achafes, corneolus, pearl jaspis, chalcedonius, alabaster,
porphyry, coral, marble, touchstone, hematites, or
bloodstone ; smyris, ivory, bones, ebon-tree, cedar,
cypress, pitch, softer rosin, camphire, galbanum, am*
moniac, storax, benzoin, loadstone, asphaltum*.

These bodies, gold, silver, brass, iron, draw not,
though never so finely polished.

In winter, if the air be sharp and clear, sal gem-
ineum, roch allum, and lapis specularis, will draw.

These following bodies are apt to be drawn, if the
mass of them be small : chaff, woods, leaves, stones,
all metals leaved, and in the mine -3 earth, water, oiK

* The drawing of iron excepted.

MEDICAL REMAINS.

Grains of youth.

1 AKE of nitre four grains, of ambergrease three
grains, of orris-powder two grains, of white poppy-
seed the fourth part of a grain, of saffron half a grain,
with water of orange-flowers, and a little tragacanth ;
make them into small grains, four in number. To
be taken at four a-clock, or going to bed.

Preserving ointments'.

TAKEofdeers suet one ounce, of myrrh six grains,
of saffron five grains, of bay-salt twelve grains, of Ca-
nary wine, of two years old, a spoonful and a half.
Spread it on the inside of your shirt, and let it dry, and
then put it on.

A purge familiar for opening the liver.

TAKE rhubarb two drams, agaric trochiscat one dram
and a half, steep them in claret wine burnt with
mace ; take of wormwood one dram, steep it with
the rest, and make a mass of pills, with syrup, acetos.
simplex. But drink an opening broth before it, with
succory, fennel, and smallage roots., and a little of an
onion.

Wine for the spirits.

TAKE gold perfectly refined three ounces, quench
it six or seven times in good claret wine -y add of nitre
six grains for two draughts : add of saffron prepared
three grains, of ambergrease four grains, pass it through
an hyppocras bag, wherein there is a dram of cinna-
namon gross beaten, or, to avoid the dimming of the
colour, of ginger. Take two spoonfuls of this to a
draught of fresh claret wine.

218 Medical Remains.

The preparing of saffron.

TAKE six grains of saffron, steeped in half parts of
wine and rose water, and a quarter part vinegar : then
dry it in the sun.

Wine against adverse melancholy, preserving the sense*

ami the reason.

TAKE the roots of buglos well scraped and cleansed
from their inner pith, and cut them into small slices;
steep them in wine of gold extinguished ut supra, and
add of nitre three grains, and drink it ut supra, mixed
with fresh wine : the roots must not continue steeped
above a quarter of an hour; and they must be chang-
ed thrice.

Breakfast preservative against the gout and rheums.

To take once in the month at least, and for two
days together, one grain of castorei in my ordinary
broth.

The preparation ofgarlick.

TAKE garlick four ounces, boil it upon a soft fire in
claret wine, for half an hour. Take it out and steep
it in vinegar; whereto add two drams of cloves, then
take it forth, and keep it in a glass for use.

The artificial preparation of damask roses for smell,

TAKE roses, pull their leaves, then dry them in a
clear day in the hot sun : then their smell will be as
gone. Then cram them into an earthen bottle, very
dry and sweet, and stop it very close; they will re-
main in smell and colour both fresher, than those that
are otherwise dried. Note, the first drying, and close
keeping upon it, preventeth all putrefaction, and
the second spirit cometh forth, made of the remaining
moisture not dissipated.

A restorative drink.

TAKE of Indian maiz half a pound, grind it not
too small, but to the fineness of ordinary meal, and

Medical Ecm a Ins. 2 1 9

then bolt and scarce it, that all the husky part may be
taken away. Take of enjngium roots three ounces,
of dates as much, of cnula, two drams, of mace three
drams, and brew them with ten shilling beer to the
quantity of four gallons : and this do, either by de-
cocting them in a pottle of wort, to be after mingled
with the beer, being new tapped, or otherwise infuse
it in the new beer, in a bag. Use this familiarly at
meals.

Against the waste of the body by heat.

TAKE sweet pomegranates, and strain them lightly,
not pressing the kernel, into a glass ; where put some
little of the peel of a citron, and two or three cloves,
and three grains of ambergrease, and a pretty deal of
fine sugar. It is to be drunk every morning whilst
•pomegranates Jast.

Methusalem water. Against all asperity and torref ac-
tion of inward parts, and all adustion of the blood,
and generally against the driness of age.

TAKE crevises very new, q. s. boil them well in
claret wine, of them take only the shells, and rub
them very clean, especially on the inside, that they
may be thoroughly cleansed from the meat. Then
wrash them three or four times in fresh claret wine,
heated : still changing the wine, till all the fish-taste
be quite taken away. But in the wine wherein they
are washed, steep some tops of green rosemary ; then
dry the pure shell thoroughly, and bring them to an
exquisite powder. Of this powder take three drams.
Take also pearl, and steep them in vinegar twelve
hours, and dry off the vinegar j of this powder also three
drams. Then put the shell powder and pearl powder
together, and add to them of ginger one scruple, and
of white poppy seed half a scruple, and steep them
in spirit of wine, wherein six grains of saffron have
been dissolved seven hours. Then upon a gentle
heat vapour away all the spirit of wine, and dry the
powder against the sun without fire. Add to it of
nitre one dram, of ambergrease one scruple and a half$

22O Medical Remains.

and so keep this powder for use in a clean glass.
Then take a pottle of milk, and slice in it of fresh
cucumbers, the inner pith only, the rind being parecj
off, four ounces, and draw forth a water by distilla-
tion. Take of claret wine a pint, and quench gold
in it four times.

Of the wine, and of the water of milk, take of each
three ounces, of the powder one scruple, and drink
it in the morning ; stir up the powder when you
drink, and walk upon it.

A catalogue of astringents, openers, and cordials
instrumental to health.

ASTRINGENTS.

RED rose, black-berry, myrtle, plantane, flower
of pomegranate, mint, aloes well washed, myroba-
Janes, sloes, agrestia fraga, mastich, myrrh, saffron,
leaves of rosemary, rhubarb received by infusion,
cloves, service-berries, corna, wormwood, bole ar-
moniac, sealed earth, cinquefoil, tincture of steel,
sanguis draconis, coral, amber, quinces, spikenard,
galls, alum, blood-stone, mummy, amomiim, galaiv
gal, cypress, ivy, psyllum, housleek, sallow, rnul-
Jein, vine, oak-leaves, lignum aloes, red sanders, mul-
berry, medlars, flowers of peach-trees, pomegranates,
pears, palmule, pith of kernels, purslain, acacia,
laudanum., tragacanth, thus olibani, comfrey, shep-
herd's purse, polygonium.

Astringents, both hot and cold, which corroborate the
parts, and which confirm and refresh such of them
as are loose or languishing.

ROSEMARY, mint, especially with vinegar, cloves,
cinnamon, cardamum, lign-aloes, rose, myrtle, red
sanders, cotonea, red wine, chalybeat wine, five-finger
grass, plantane, apples of cypress, berberries, fraga,
service berries, cornels, ribes, sour pears, rambesia.

Medical Remains. £>2 1

Astringents styptic, which by their styptic virtue may
stay Jinxes.

SLOES, acacia, rind of pomegranates infused at
least three hours, the styptic virtue not coming forth
in lesser time. Alum, galls, juice of sallow, syrup
of unripe quinces, balaustia, the whites of eggs boiled
hard in vinegar.

Astringents, which by their cold and earthy nature
may stay the motion of the humours tending to a Jinx.

SEALED earth, sanguis draconis, coral, pearls, the
shell of the fish dactylus.

Astringents, which by the thickness of their substance stuff
as it were the thin humours, and thereby stay jinxes.

RICE, beans, millet, cauls, dry cheese, fresh goat's
milk.

Astringents, which by virtue of their glutinous substance

restrain ajlux, and strengthen the looser parts.
KARABE*, mastich, spodium, hartshorn, frankin-
cense, dried bulls pistle, gum tragacanth.

Astringents purgative, which, having by their purga-
tive or expulsive power thrust out the humours,
leave behind them astrictive virtue.

RHUBARB, especially that which is toasted against
the fire -, myrobalanes, tartar, tamarinds, an Indian
fruit like green damascenes.

Astringents which do very much suck and dry up the hu-
mours, and thereby stay jinxes.
RUST of iron, crocus martis, ashes of spices.

Astringents, which by their nature do dull the spirits,
and lay asleep the expulsive virtue, and take away the
acrimony of all humours.

LAUDANUM, mithridate, diascordium, diacodium.
* Perhaps lie meant the fruit of Karobe.

222 Medical Remain?.

Astringents, which by cherishing the strength of the
parts, do comfort and confirm their retentive flower.

A stomacher of scarlet cloth: whelps, or young
healthy boys, applied to the stomach : hippocratic
wines, so they be made of austere materials.

OPENERS.

SUCCORY, endive, betony, liverwort, pctroseiimint,
smallage, -asparagus, roots of grass, dodder, tama-
risk, juncus odoratus, lacca, cupparus, wormwood,
cham<epit.ys,fumaria, scurvy-grass, eringo, nettle, ireos9
alder, hyssop, arist6l6chiat gentian, costus, fennel-root,
maiden-hair, harts-tongue, daffodilly, asarum, sarsa"-
parilla, sassafras, acorns, abretonum, aloes, agaric,
rhubarb infused, onions, garlic, bother, squilta, sow-
bread, Indian nard, Celtic nard, bark of laurel-tree,
bitter almonds, holy thistle, camomile, gun-powder,
sows (millepedes) ammoniac, mans urine, rue, park
leaves, (vitex) centaury, lupines, chumxdrys, costum,
ammios, bistort, camphire, daucus seed, Indian bal-
sam, scordium, sweet cane, galingal, agrimony,

CORDIALS.

FLOWERS of basil royal, fiores caryophillati, flowers
of bugloss and borage, rind of citron, orange flowers,
rosemary and its flowers, saffron, musk, amber, folium,
i. e. nardi folium, balm gentle, pimpernel, gems, gold,
generous wines, fragrant apples, rose, rosa moschata,
cloves, lign-aloes, mace, cinnamon, nutmeg, carda-
mum, galingal. vinegar, kermes berry, herb a moschata,
betony, white -sanders, camphire, flowers of helio-
trope, penny-royal, scordium, opium corrected, white
pepper, nasturtium, white and red bean, cast urn duke,
daclylus, pine, fig, egg-shell, vinum tnalralicum, ginger,
kidneys, oisters, crevises, or river crabs, seed of nettle,
oil of sweet almonds, sesaminum oleum, asparagus, bul-
bous roots, onions, garlic, eruca, daucus seed, eringo,
sifermontdnus, the smell of musk, cynethi odor, caraway
seed, flower of puls, aniseed, pellitory, anointing of
the testicles with oil of alder in which pellitory hath
been boiled, cloves with goats milk, olibamun.

Medical Remains. 223

An extract by the Lord BACON, for his own use, out of
the book Of the prolongation of life, together with
some new advices in order to health.

1. ONCE in the week, or at least in the fortnight,
to take the water of mithridate distilled, with three
parts to one, or strawberry-water to allay it ; and some
grains of nitre and saffron, in the morning between
sleeps.

2. To continue my broth with nitre; but to inter-
change it every other two days, with the juice of
pomegranates expressed, with a little cloves, and rind
of citron.

3. To order the taking of the maceration* as fol-
io we th.

To add to the maceration six grains of cremor tar-
tari, and as much enula.

To add to the oxymel some infusion of fennel-roots
in the vinegar, and four grains of angelica-seed, and
juice of lemons, a third part to the vinegar.

To take it not so immediately before supper, and to
have the broth specially made with barley, rosemary,
thyme, and cresses.

SOMETIMES to add to the maceration three grains of
tartar, and two of enula, to cut the more heavy and
viscous humours -, lest rhubarb work only upon the
lightest.

To take sometimes the oxymel before it, and some-
times the Spanish honey simple.

4. To take once in the month at least, and for two
days together, a grain and a half of castor in my
broth, and breakfast.

5. A cooling clyster to be used once a month, after
the working of the maceration is settled.

TAKE of barley-water, in which the roots of burgloss
are boiled, three ounces, with two drams of red san-
ders, and two ounces of raisins of the sun, and one
ounce ofdactyles, and an ounce and a half of fat ca-

* Viz. Of rhubarb infused into a draught of white wim' and beer,
mingled together, for the space of half an hour, once in six of seven
days. See the Lord Bacon's Life, by Dr. Rawiey, towards the end.

224- Medical Remain*.

ricks; let it be strained, and add to it an ounce and a
half of syrup of violets : let a clyster be made. Let this
be taken, with veal, in the aforesaid decoction.

6. To take every morning the fume of lign-aloes,
rosemary and bays dried, which I use ; but once in a
week to add a little tobacco, without otherwise tak-
ing it in a pipe.

7. To appoint every day an hour ad affectus inten-
tionaksct sanos. Query, de particular i.

8. To remember masticatories for the mouth.

9. AND orange-flower water to be smelt to or
snuffed up.

10. IN the third hour after the sun is risen, to take
in air from some high and open place, with a ventila-
tion of rosce muschatce, and fresh violets; and to stir
the earth with infusion of wine and mint.

1 1. To use ale with a little enula campana, carduus^
germander, sage, angelica-seed, cresses of a middle
age, to beget a robust heat.

12. MITHRIDATE thrice a year.

13. A BIT of bread dipt in vino odorafo, with syrup
of dry rose and a little amber, at going to bed.

14. NEVER to keep the body in the same posture
above half an hour at a time.

15. FOUR precepts. To break off custom. To
shake off spirits ill disposed. To meditate on youth.
To do nothing against a man's genius.

16. SYRUP of quinces for the mouth of the stomach.
Inquire concerning other things useful in that kind.

17. To use once during supper time wine in which
gold is quenched.

18. To use anointing in the morning lightly with
oil of almonds, with salt and saffron, and a gentle
rubbing.

19. ALE of the second infusion of the vine of oak.

20. METHUSALEM water of pearls and shells of
crabs, and a little chalk.

21. ALE of raisins, dactyles, potatoes, pistachios,
honey, tragacanth, mastic.

22. WINK with swines flesh or harts flesh.

23. To drink the first cup at supper hot, and half

Medical Remains.

an hour before supper something hot and aroma-
tised.

24. CHALYBEATES four times a year.

25. PILULJE extribus, once in two months, but after
the mass has been macerated in oil of almonds.

26. HEROIC desires.

27. BATHING of the feet once in a month, with lye
ex sale 7iigro, camomile, sweet marjoram, fennel, sage3
and a little aqua vita.

£8. To provide always an apt breakfast.

29. To beat the flesh before roasting of it.

30. MACERATIONS in pickles.

31. Agitation of beer by ropes, or in wheel-bar-
rows.

32. THAT diet is good which makes lean and then
renews. Consider of the ways to effect it.

MEDICAL RECEIPTS OF THE LORD BACON.

His Lordship's usual receipt for the gout , to which he
refers, Nat. Hist. Cent. L N. 60.

1. The poultis.

TAKE of manchet about three ounces, the crumb
only, thin cut; let it be boiled in milk till it grow to a
pulp. Add in the end a dram and a half of the pow-
der of red roses ; of saffron ten grains ; of oil of roses
an ounce ; let it be spread upon a linen cloth, and ap-
plied luke-warm, and continued for three hours space.

2. The bath or fomentation.

TAKE of sage-leaves half a handful 3 of the root of
hemlock sliced six drams ; of briony-roots half an
ounce; of the leaves of red roses two pugils;let them
be boiled in a pottle of water, wherein steel hath been
quenched, till the liquor come to a quart. After the
straining, put in half a handful of bay-salt. Let it be
used with scarlet cloth, or scarlet wool, dipped
in the liquor hot, and so renewed seven times; all in
the space of a quarter of an hour, or little more.

VOL> II. Q

226 Medical Remains.

3. Theplaister.

TAKE emplastrum diachalciteos, as much as is suffi-
cient for the part you mean to cover. Let it be dis-
solved with oil of roses, in such a consistence as will
stick ; and spread upon a piece of Holland, and ap-
plied.

His lordship's broth and fomentation for the stone.

The broth.

TAKE one dram of eryngiwn roots, cleansed and
sliced; and boil them together with a chicken. In
the end, add of alder-flowers, and marigold-flowers tQr
gether, one pugil; of angelica-seed half a dram, of
raisins of the sun stoned, fifteen ; of rosemary, thyme.,
mace, together, a little.

In six ounces of this broth, or thereabouts, let there
fee dissolved of white cremor tartar i three grains.

Every third or fourth day, take a small toast of
manchet, dipped in oil of sweet almonds new drawn,
and sprinkled with a little loaf-sugar. You may\nake
the broth for two days, and take one-half every day.

If you find the stone to stir, forbear the toast for a
course or two. The intention of this broth is, not to
void, but to undermine the quarry of the stones in the
kidneys.

The fomentation.

TAKE of leaves of violets, mallows, pcllitory of the
wall, together, one handful ; of flowers of camomile
and melilot, together, one pugil; the root of marsh-
mallows, one ounce ; of anise and fennel seeds, toge-
ther, one ounce and a half ; of flax-seed two drams.
Make a decoction in spring-water.

The second receipt, shewing the way of making a certain
ointment, which his lordship called Unguentum fra-
grans, sive Romanum, the fragrant or Roman itn-
• guent.

TAKE of the fat of a deer half a pound ; of oil of
sweet almonds two ounces : let them be set upon a

Medical Remains. 227

very gentle fire, and stirred with a stick of juniper
till they are melted. Add of root of flower-de-luce,
powdered ; damask-roses, powdered ; together, one
dram ; of myrrh dissolved in rose-water half a dram ;
of cloves half a scruple ; of civet four grains; of musk
six grains ; of oil of mace expressed one drop ; as
much of rose-water as sufficeth to keep the unguent
from being too thick. Let all these be put together in
a glass, and set upon the embers for the space of an
hour, and stirred with a stick of juniper.

Note, that in the confection of this ointment, there
was not used above a quarter of a pound, and a tenth
part of a quarter of deer's suet : and that all the ingre-
dients, except the oil of almonds, were doubled when
the ointment was half made, because the fat things
seemed to be too predominant.

The, third receipt. A manus Christi for the stomach.

TAKE of the best pearls very finely pulverised, one
dram ; of sal nitre one scruple ; of tartar two scruples ;
of ginger and galingal together, one ounce and a half;
of calamus, root of enula campcnia, nutmeg, together,
one scruple and a half; of amber sixteen grains; of
the best musk ten grains ; with rose-water and the
finest sugar, let there be made a manus Christi.

The fourth receipt. A secret for the stomach.
TAKE lignum aloes in gross shavings, steep them in
sack, or alicant, changed twice, half an hour at a
time, till the bitterness be drawn forth. Then take
the shavings forth, and dry them in the shade, and
beat them to an excellent powder. Of that powder,
with the syrup of citrons, make a small pill, to be
taken before supper.

WORKS MORAL.

FRAGMENT

IDF THE

COLOURS OF GOOD AND EVIL.

TO THE LORD MOUNTJOYE.

1 SEND you the last part of the best book of Ari-
stotle of Stagira, who, as your lordship knoweth,
goeth for the best author. But saving the civil re-
spect which is due to a received estimation, the man
being a Grecian, and of a hasty wit, having hardly
a discerning patience, much less a teaching patience,
hath so delivered the matter, as I am glad to do the
part of a good house-hen, which without any strange-
ness will sit upon pheasants eggs. And yet per-
chance, some that shall compare my lines with Ari-
stotle's lines, will muse by what art, or rather by what
revelation* I could draw these conceits out of that
place. But I, that should know best, do freely ac-
knowledge, that I had my light from him ; for where
he gave me not matter to perfect, at the least he
gave me occasion to invent. Wherein as I do him
right, being myself a man that am as free from envy-
ing the dead in contemplation, as from envying the
living in action or fortune : so yet nevertheless still I
say, and I speak it more largely than before, that in
perusing the writings of this person so much cele-
brated, whether it were the impediment of his wit, or
that he did it upon glory and affectation to be subtile,
as one that if he had seen his own conceits clearly
and perspicuously delivered, perhaps would have been
put of love with them himself; or else upon policy,,

232 Colours of Good and Evil.

to keep hitfiself close, as one that had been a chal-
lenger of all the world, and had raised infinite contra-
diction : to what cause soever it is to be ascribed, I
do not find him to deliver and unwrap himself well of
that he seemeth to conceive ; nor to be a master of
his own knowledge. Neither do I for my part also,
though I have brought in a new manner of handling
this argument, to make it pleasant and lightsome,
pretend so to have overcome the nature of the sub*
ject; but that the full understanding and use of it
will be somewhat dark, and best pleasing the taste of
such wits as are patient to stay the digesting and so-
luting unto themselves of that which is sharp and
subtile. Which was the cause, joined with the love
and honour which I bear to your lordship, as the per-
son I know to have many virtues, and an excellent
order of them, which moved me to dedicate this
writing to your lordship after the ancient manner:
choosing both a friend, and one to whom I conceived
the argument was agreeable.

OF THE

COLOURS OF GOOD AND EVIL.

IN deliberatives, the point is, what is good, and
what is evil ; and of good, what is greater, and of
evil, what is less.

So that the persuader's labour is, to make things
appear good or evil, and that in higher or lower de-
gree : which as it may be performed by true and solid
reasons, so it may be represented also by colours, po-
pularities and circumstances ; which are of such
force, as they sway the ordinary judgment either of
a weak man, or of a wise man, not fully and con-
siderately attending and pondering the matter. Be-

Colours of Good and Evil.

sides their power to alter the nature of the subject in
appearance, and so to lead to error, they are of no
less use to quicken and strengthen the opinions and
persuasions which are true ; for reasons plainly de-
livered, and always after one manner, especially with
fine and fastidious minds, enter but heavily and dully :
whereas if they be varied, and have more life and
vigour put into them by these forms and insinuations,
they cause a stronger apprehension, and many times
suddenly win the mind to a resolution. Lastly, to
make a true and safe judgment, nothing can be of
greater use and defence to the mind, than the dis-
covering and reprehension of these colours, shewing
in what cases they hold, and in what they deceive :
which, as it cannot be done but out of a very uni-
versal knowledge of the nature of things, so being
performed, it so cleareth man's judgment and elec-
tion, as it is, the less apt to slide into any error.

A TABLE of the colours or appearances of GOOD
and EVIL, and their degrees, as places of per-
suasion and dissuasion, and their several fallacies,

and the clenches of them.

i

I.

Cut c&terte paries vel secttf secundas unanlmiter de-

ferunty cum shiguLe printipatum sibi vindicent,

tnelior reliquis videtin\ Nam primas quteque ex

zeio videtur sumere, secundas autem ex vcro et

merito tribuere.

SO Cicero went about to prove the sect of Aca-
demics, which suspended all asseveration, to be the
best ; For, saith he, ask a Stoic which philosophy is
true, he will prefer his own. Then ask him, which
approacheth next the truth, he will confess the Aca-
demics. So deal with the Epicure, that will scarce
endure the Stoic to be in sight of him ; so soon as he
hath placed himself, he will place the Academics next
him, So if a prince took divers competitors to a
place, and examined them severally, whom next them-

234 Colours of Good and Evil.

selves they would rarest commend, it were like
ablest man should have the most second voices.

The fallax of this colour happeneth oft in respect of
envy, for men are accustomed, after themselves and
their own [action, to incline unto them which are
softest, and are least in their way, in despite and de-
rogation of them that hold them hardest to it. So
that this colour of meliority and pre-eminence is a sign
of enervation and weakness.

II.

Citjus excdlentia vd exuperantid metior, id toto genere

melius.

APPERTAINING to this are the forms : « Let
" us not wander in generalities : Let us compare par-
" ticular with particular," etc. This appearance,
though it seem of strength, and rather logical than
rhetorical, yet is very oft a fallax.

Sometime because some things are in kind very ca-
sual, which if they escape prove excellent 5 so that
the kind is inferior, because it is so subject to peril,
but that which is excellent being proved is superior :
as the blossom of March, and the blossom of May,
whereof the French verse goeth :

Burgeon de Mars> enfans dc Paris,

Si un $schape9 il en vaut dix.

So that the blossom of May is generally better than the
blossom of March ; and yet the best blossom of March
is better than the best blossom of May. Sometimes
because the nature of some kinds is to be more equal,
and more indifferent, and not to have very distant de-
grees; as hath been noted, in the warmer climates
the people are generally more wise, but in the nor-
thern climates the wits of chief are greater. So in
many armies, if the matter should be tried by duel be-
tween two champions, the victory should go on the
one side ; and yet if it be tried by the gross, it would
go on the other side : for excellencies go as it were by
chance, but kinds go by a more certain nature ; as by
discipline in war.

Lastly; many kinds have much refuse; which

Colours of Good and Evil. 235

countervail that which they have excellent: and there-
fore generally metal is more precious than stone ; and
yet a diamond is more precious than gold.

III.

i

Quod ad veritatcm refer lur, majus est, quam quod ad
opinianem. Modus autem et probatio ejnsy quod ad
opinionem pertinet, h<cc est : quodquis, si dam puta-
ret forey facturus non essct.

SO the Epicures say of the Stoic felicity placed in
virtue, that it is like the felicity of a player, who if he
were left of his auditory and their applause, he would
straight be out of heart and countenance ; and there-
fore they call virtue bonum theatrale : but of riches the
poet saith,

Populus me sibilat ; at mihi plaudo.
And of pleasure,

Grata sub imo
G audio, cordepreincns, vultu simulante pudorem.

The fallax of this colour is somewhat subtile, though
the answer to the example be ready, for virtue is not
chosen propter auram popidarem ; but contrariwise,
maxime omnium teipsum reverere : so as a virtuous man
will be virtuous in solitudine, and not only in theatro,
though percase it will be more strong by glory and
fame, as an heat which is doubled by reflexion. But
that denieth the supposition, it doth not reprehend
the fallax ; whereof the reprehension is : Allow that
virtue, such as is joined with labour and conflict,
would not be chosen but for fame and opinion :. yet
it followeth not that the chief motive of the election
should not be real and for itself: for fame may be only
causa impulsiva, and not causa constituens or ejjiciens*
As if there were two horses, and the one would do
better without the spur than the other : but again, the
other with the spur would far exceed the doing of the
former, giving him the spur also ; yet the latter will be
judged to be the better horse. And the form, as to
say, " Tush, the life of this horse is but in the spur/1
••will not serve as to a wise judgment : for since the
ordinary instrument of horsemanship is. the. spur, ai>d

SS6 Colours of Good and Evil

that it is no matter of impediment or burden, the horse
is not to be accounted the less of, which will not do
well without the spur ; but rather the other is to be
reckoned a delicacy than a virtue. So glory and ho-
nour are the spurs to virtue : and although virtue
would languish without them, yet since they be al-
ways at hand to attend virtue, virtue is not to be said
the less chosen for itself, because it needeth the spur
of fame and reputation : and therefore that position,
nota ejus, quod propter opinioncm et non propter verita-
tem eligitur, htccest; quod quis, si clam putarct fore,
facturus non esset, is reprehended.

IV.

Quod rein integram servat, bonum ; quod sine receptif
tst, malum : nam se recipere non posse, impotentue
genus est ; potent ia autem bonum.

HEREOF ^Esop framed the fable of the two frogs,
that consulted together in the time of drought, when
many plashes that they had repaired to, were dry, what
was to be done ; and the one propounded to go down
into a deep well, because it was like the water would
not fail there ; but the other answered, " Yea, but
" if it do fail, how shall we get up again ?" And the
reason is, that human actions are so uncertain and
subject to perils, as that seemeth the best course which
hath most passages out of it. Appertaining to this
persuasion, the forms are : You shall engage yourself;
on the other side, Non tantum, quantum voles, sumes ex
fortuna, etc. You shall keep the matter in your
own hand.

The reprehension of it is, that proceeding and re-
solving in all actions is necessary. For as he saith
well, Not to resolve, is to resolve ; and many times
it breeds as many necessities, and engageth as far in
some other sort, as to resolve. So it is but the covet-
ous man's disease, translated into power; for the co-
vetous man will enjoy nothing, because he will have
his full store and possibility to enjoy the more: so by
this reason a man should execute nothing, because he
should be still indifferent, and at liberty to execute

Colours of Good and Evil. 237

any thing. Besides, necessity and this same jactaest
tika, hath many times an advantage, because it awak-
eth the powers of the mind, and strengthened endea-
vour; Ctfteris pares, necessitate certe super lores estis*

V.

Qiwd expluribus constat et divisibilibus est majus, quam
quod ex paucioribus, et magis unum; nam omnia
per paries consider ata major a videntur: quare et
pluralitas partium magnitudinem'pr<c sefert : fortius
autemoperatur pluralitaspartium si or do absit; nam
inducit similitudinem infiniti, et impedit comprehen-
sionem.

THIS colour seemeth palpable ; for it is not plu-
rality pf parts without majority of parts, that maketh
the total greater ; yet nevertheless it often carries the
mind away, yea, it deceiveth the sense ; as it seemeth
to the eye a shorter distance of way, if it be all dead
and continued, than if it have trees or buildings, or
any other marks whereby the eye may divide it. So
when a great moneyed man hath divided his chests,
and coins, and bags, he seemeth to himself richer than
he was ; and therefore a way to amplify any thing is,
to break it, and to make anatomy of it in several parts,
and ,to examine it according to several circumstances.
And this maketh the greater shew if it be done with-
out order, for confusion maketh things muster more;
and besides, what is set down by order and division,
doth demonstrate that nothing is left out or omitted,
but all is there ; whereas if it be without order, both
the mind comprehendeth less that which is set down ;
and besides, it leaveth a suspicion, as if more might
be said than is expressed.

This colour deceiveth, if the mind of him that is to
be persuaded, do of itself over-conceive, or prejudge
of the greatness of any thing; for then the breaking
of it will make it seem less, because it maketh it to
appear more according to the truth : and therefore if
a man be in sickness or pain, the time will seem
longer without a clock or hour-glass, than with it ;
for the mind doth value every moment, and then the

-

2 S 8 Colours of Good and Evil.

hour doth rather sum up the moments, than divide the
day. So in a dead plain the way seemeth the longer,
because the eye hath preconceived it shorter than the
truth, and the frustrating of that maketh it seem
longer than the truth. Therefore if any man have an
over-great opinion of any thing, then it another think
by breaking it into several considerations he shall
make it seem greater to him, he will be deceived;
and therefore in such cases it is not safe to divide,
but to extol the entire still in general. Another case
wherein this colour deceiveth, is when the matter
broken or divided is not comprehended by the sense
or made at once, in respect of the distracting or scat-
tering of it; and being intire and not divided, is
comprehended : as an hundred pounds in heaps of
five pounds will shew more than in one gross heap, so
as the heaps be all upon one taHe to be seen at once,
otherwise not : as flowers growing scattered in divers
beds will shew more than if they did grow in one bed,
•so as all those beds be within a plot, that they be ob*-
ject to view at once, otherwise not : and therefore
men, whose living lieth together in one shire, are com-
monly counted greater landed than those whose liv-
ings are dispersed, though it be more, because of the
notice and comprehension. A third case wherein this
colour deceiveth, and it is not so properly a case of
reprehension, as it is a counter colour, being in effect
as large as the colour itself; and that is, omnis compo-
sitio indigentite cu jus dam in singidis videtur cssc parti-
cepsy because if one thing would serve the turn, it
were ever best, but the defect and imperfections of
things hath brought in that help to piece them up ;
as it is said, Martha, Martha, attcndis ad plurima, wmm
siiffi-cit. So likewise hereupon ^Esop framed the fable
of the fox and the cat ; whereas the fox bragged
what a number of shifts and devices he had to get
from the hounds, and the cat said he had but one,
which was to climb a tree, which in proof was bet-
ter worth than all the rest ; whereof the proverb grew,
Malta novit vulpes, sed fclis union magnum. And in
the moral of this fable it comes likewise to pass, that

Colours of Good and Evil. 239

a good sure friend is a better help at a pinch, than all
the stratagems and policies of a man's own wit. So
it falleth out to be a common error in negociating,
whereas men have many reasons to induce or per-
suade, they strive commonly to utter and use them all
at once, which weakeneth them. For it argueth, as
was said, a neediness in every of the reasons by itself,
as if one did not trust to any of them, but fled froai
one to another, helping himself only with that : Et
qua non prosunt singula, mulla juvant. Indeed in a
set speech in an assembly, it is expected a man should
use all his reasons in the case he handleth, but in pri-
vate persuasions it is always a great error. A fourth
case wherein this colour maybe reprehended, is in re-
spect of that same vis unita fortlor ^ according to the
tale of the French king, that when the emperor's am-
bassador had recited his master's stile at large, which
consisteth of many countries and dominions; the
French king willed his chancellor, or other minister, to
repeat over France as many times as the other had recit-
ed the several dominions; intending it was equivalent
with them all, and more compacted and united. There
is also appertaining to this colour another point, why-
breaking of a thing doth help it, not by way of add-
ing a shew of magnitude unto it, but a note of excel-
lency and rarity ; whereof the forms are, Where
shall you find such a concurrence ; Great but not
complete ; for it seems a less w7ork of nature or tor-
tune, to make any thing in his kind greater than or-
dinary, than to make a strange composition. Yet if
it be narrowly considered, this colour will be repre-
hended or encountered, by imputing to all excellen^
cies in compositions a kind of poverty, or at least a
casualty or jeopardy ; for from that which is excel-
lent in greatness, somewhat may be taken, or there
may be a decay, and yet sufficient left ; but from that
which hath his price in composition if you take away
any thing, or any part do fail, all is disgrace.

240 Colours of Good and Evil.

VI.

Cnjus privatio bonay malnm ; cujus privatio mala,

bonum.

THE forms to make it conceived, that that was
evil which is changed for the better, are, He that is
in hell thinks there is no other heaven. Satis quercus,
Acorns were good till bread was found, etc. And of
the other side, the forms to make it conceived, that
that was good which was changed for the worse, are,
Bona mag is carcndo quam fruendo sentimus : Bona ct
tergoformosissima: Good things never appear in their
full beauty, till they turn their back and be going
away, etc.

The reprehension of this colour is, that the good or
evil which is removed, may be esteemed good or evil
comparatively, and not positively or simply. So that
if the privation be good, it follows not the former
condition was evil, but less good : for the flower or
blossom is a positive good, although the remove of it
to give place to the fruit, be a comparative good. So
in the the tale of ^Esop, when the old fainting man
in the heat of the day cast down his burden, and called
for Death ; and when Death came to know his will
with him, said, it was for nothing but to help him up
\vith his burden again : it doth not follow, that be-
cause death, which was the privation of the burden,
was ill, therefore the hurden was good. And in this
part, the ordinary form of malum necessarium, aptly
reprehendeth this colour ; for privatio mail necessarii
cst mala, and yet that doth not convert the nature of
the necessary evil, but it is evil.

Again, it cometh sometimes to pass, that there is an
equality in the change of privation, and as it were a
dilemma boni, or a dilemma 'mail: so that the cor-
ruption of the one good, is a generation of the other.
Sorti pater aquus utrlque cst : and contrary, the re-
medy of the one evil is Hie occasion and commence-
ment of another, as in Scylla and Charybdis.

Colours of Good and Evil. 21-1

VII.

Quod bono vicinum, bonum ; quod d bono remolum,
malum*

SUCH is the nature of things, that things contrary*
and distant in nature and quality, are also severed and
disjoined in place : and things like and consenting in
quality, are placed, and as it were quartered together :
for, partly in regard of the nature to spread, multiply,
and infect in similitude ; and partly in regard of the
nature to break, expel, and alter that which is disa-
greeable and contrary, most things do either associ-
ate, and draw near to themselves the like, or at least
assimilate to themselves that which approacheth near
them, and do also drive away, chase and exterminate
their contraries. And that is the reason commonly
yielded, why the middle region of the air should be
coldest, because the sun and stars are either hot by
direct beams, or by reflexion. The direct beams heat
the upper region, the reflected beams from the earth
and seas, heat the lower region. That which is in
the midst, being farthest distant in place from these
two regions of heat, are most distant in nature, that
is, coldest ; which is that they term cold or hot per
antipcristasin, that is environing by contraries : which
was pleasantly taken hold of by him that said, that an
honest man, in these days, must needs be more honest
than in ages heretofore, propter anliperistasiny be-
cause the shutting of him in the midst of contraries,
must needs make the honesty stronger and more com-
pact in itself.

The reprehension of this colour is : first, many
things of amplitude in their kind do as it were ingross
to themselves all, and leave that which is next them
most destitute: as the shoots or underwood, that grow
near a great and spread tree, is the most pined and
shrubby wood of the field, because the great tree
doth deprive and deceive them of sap and nourish- '
ment; so he saith well, divitis servi maxime servi : and
the comparison was pleasant of him, that compared
courtiers attendant in the courts of princes without

VOL. II. R

242 Colours of Good and Evil*

great place or office, to fasting-days, which were
next the holy-days, but otherwise were the leanest
days in all the week.

Another reprehension is, that things of greatness
and predominancy, though they do not extenuate the
things adjoining in substance, yet they drown them
and obscure them in shew and appearance; and there-
fore the astronomers say, That whereas in all other pla-
nets conjunction is the perfectest amity ; the sun con-
trariwise is good by aspect, but evil by conjunction.

A third reprehension is, because evil approacheth
to good sometimes for concealment, sometimes for
protection; and good to evil for conversion and re-
formation. So hypocrisy draweth near to religion
for covert, and hiding itself; sape latet vitium proxi-
mitate boni : and sanctuary-men, which were com-
monly inordinate men and malefactors, were wont to
be nearest to priests and prelates, and holy men ; for
the majesty of good things is such, as the confines of
them are reverend. On the other side, our Saviour,
charged with nearness of publicans and rioters, said,
the physician approacheth the sicky rather than the whole,

VIII.

Quod quis culpa sua contraxit, majus mahtm ; quod ab
externis imponitury minus malum.

THE reason is, because the sting and remorse of
the mind accusing itself doubleth all adversity: con-
trariwise, the considering and recording inwardly,
that a man is clear and free from fault and just impu-
tation, doth attemper outward calamities. For if the
evil be in the sense, and in the conscience both, there
is a gemination of it; but if evil be in the one and
comfort in the other, it is a kind of compensation : so
the poets in tragedies do make the most passionate la-
mentation, and those that fore-run final despair, to be
accusing, questioning, and torturing of a man's life.
Seque uiunn chnnat causamque caputque malorum.

And contrariwise, the extremities of worthy persons
have been annihilated in the consideration of their own
good deserving. Besides, when the evil cometh from

Colours of Good and Evil 243

without, there is left a kind of evaporation of grief, if
it come by human injury, either by indignation, and
meditating of revenge from ourselves, or by expecting
or fore-conceiving that Nemesis and retribution will
take hold of the authors of our hurt: or if it be by for-
tune or accident, yet there is left a kind of expostula-
tion against the divine powers ;

Atque deos atque astra vocat cruddia mater.
But where the evil is derived from a man's own
fault, there all strikes deadly inwards, and surTocateth.

The reprehension of this colour is, first in respect
of hope, for reformation of our faults is innostrapo-
testate y but amendment of our fortune simply is not.
Therefore, Demosthenes, in many of his orations, saith
thus to the people of Athens: " That having regard to
<c the time past is the worst point and circumstance
" of all the rest; that as to the time to c^me is the
" best : what is that ? Even this, that by your sloth, ,
*c irresolution, and misgovernment, your affairs are
<c grown to this declination and decay. For had you
** used and ordered your means and forces to the
" best, and done your parts every way to the full, and,
" notwithstanding, your matters should have gone
" backward in this manner as they do, there had
" been no hope left of recovery or reparation ; but
" since it hath been only by our own errors," etc. So
Epictetus in his degrees saith, The worst state of
man is to accuse external things, better that to accuse
a man's self, and best of all to accuse neither.

Another reprehension of this colour is, in respect of
the well-bearing of evils wherewith a man can charge
nobody but himself, which maketh them the less.
Levefit quod benefertur onus.

And therefore many natures that are either ex-
tremely proud, and will take no fault to themselves,
or else very true and cleaving to themselves,
when they see the blame of any thing that falls out ill
must light upon themselves, have no other shift but to
bear it out well, and to make the least of it; for as
we see when sometimes a fault is committed, and be-
fore it be known who is to blame, much ado is made

R 2

2-14 Colours of Good and Evil.

of it; but after, if it appear to be done by a son, or
by a wife, or by a near friend, then it is light made of:
so much more when a man must take it upon himself.
And therefore it is commonly seen, that women that
marry husbands of their own choosing against their
friends consents, if they be never so ill used, yet you
shall seldom see them complain, but set a good face
on it.

IX.

Quod opera el virtute nostra partum estymajus bonum*

quod ab alieno be jw fie to vel ab indulgentia fortune

delation est, minus bomim.

THE reasons are, first, the future hope, because in
the favours of others, or the good winds of fortune,
we have no state or certainty, in our endeavours or
abilities we have. So as when they have purchased
one good fortune, we have them as ready, and better
edged, and inured to procure another.

The forms be : You have won this by play. You
have not only the water, but you have the receipt, you
can make it again if it be lost, etc.

Next, because these properties which we enjoy by
the benefit of others, carry with them an obligation,
which seemeth a kind of burden ; whereas the other,
which derive from ourselves, are like the freest pa-
tents, absque aliquo vide reddendo ; and if they pro-
ceed from fortune or providence, yet they seem to
touch us secretly with the reverence of the divine
powers, whose favours we taste, and therefore work a
kind of religious fear and restraint : whereas in the
other kind, that comes to pass which the prophet
speaketh, Lctantur et exultant, immolant plagis suis, et
sacrijicant rcti suo.

Thirdly, because that which cometh unto us with-
out our own virtue, yieldeth not that commendation
and reputation ; for actions of great felicity may draw
wonder, but praise less; as Cicero said to Caesar,
.QnamircmiWy habcmus ; qua laudemus, expectamus.

Fourthly, because the .purchases of our own in*

Colours of Good and Evil. 245

dustry are joined commonly with labour and strife,
which gives an edge and appetite, and makes the
fruition of our desires more pleasant. Suavis cibus d
vena tit.

On the other side, there be four counter colours to
this colour, rather than reprehensions, because they be
as large as the colour itself. First, because felicity
seemeth to be a character of the favour andlove of the
divine powers, and accordingly worketh both confi-
dence in ourselves, and respect and authority from
others. And this felicity extendeth to many casual
things, whereunto the care or virtue of man cannot
extend, and therefore seemeth to be a larger good; as
when Csesar said to the sailor, Ctfsaremportas etfortu-
namejus ; if he had said et virtutem ejus, it had been
small comfort against a tempest, otherwise than if it
might seem upon merit to induce fortune.

Next, whatsoever is done by virtue and industry,
seems to be done by a kind of habit and art, and there-
fore open to be imitated and followed ; whereas feli-
city is inimitable : so we generally see, that things of
nature seem more excellent than things of art, because
they be inimitable : for quod imitabilc est, potent ia
quadam vulgatuln eat.

Thirdly, felicity commendeth those things which
come without our own labour; for they seem gifts,
and the other seem pennyworths: whereupon Plu-
tarch saith elegantly of the acts of Timoleon, who
was so fortunate, compared with the acts of Agesi-
laus and Epaminondas ; that they were like Homer's
verses, they ran so easily and so well. And therefore
it is the word we give unto poesy, terming it a happy
vein, because facility seemeth ever to come from hap-
piness.

Fourthly, this same prater span, vcl prater expect a-
tum, doth increase the price and pleasure of many
things; and this cannot be incident to those things
that proceed from our own care and compass.

246 Colours of Good and Evil

X.

Gradus privationis major ride fur, quam gradus dimimt*
tionis ; et rursus gradus inccptionis major vidctm\
quam gradus incrcmenti.

IT is a position in the mathematics, that there is
no proportion between somewhat and nothing, there-
fore the degree of nullity and quiddity or act, seemeth
larger than the degrees of increase and decrease ; as
to a monoculus it is more to lose one eye than to a man
that hath two eyes. So if one have lost divers chil-
dren, it is more grief to him to lose the last, than all
the rest; because he is spes gregis. And therefore
Sibylla, when she brought her three books, and had
burned two, did double the whole price of both the
other, because the burning of that had been gradu$
privationis, and not diminutionis.

This colour is reprehended first in those things, the
use and service whereof resteth in sufficiency, compe-
tency, or determinate quantity : as if a man be to pay
one hundred pounds upon a penalty, it is more to him
to want twelve pence, than after that twelve pence
supposed to be wanting to want ten shillings more ;
so the decay of a man's estate seems to be most
touched in the degree, when he first grows behind*
more than afterwards, when he proves nothing worth.
And hereof the common forms are Sera in f undo par*
simonia, and as good never a whit, as never the bet-
ter, etc. It is reprehended also in respect of that
notion, Corrupt io unius, generatlo alterius : so that
gradus privationis is many times less matter, because
it gives the cause and motive to some new course.
As when Demosthenes reprehended the people for
hearkening to the conditions offered by king rhilip,
being not honourable nor equal, he saith they were
but aliments of their sloth and weakness, which if
they were taken away, necessity would teach them
stronger resolutions. So doctor Hector was wont to
say to the dames of London, when they complained
they were they could not tell how, but yet they could
not endure to take any medicine ;he would tell them,
their way was only to be sick, for then they would be
glad to take any medicine.

Colours of Good and Evil. 2*7

Thirdly, this colour may be reprehended, in respect
that the degree of decrease is more sensitive than the
degree of privation; for in the mind of man gradns
dimmuttonis may work a wavering between hope and
fear, and so keep the mind in suspense, from settling
and accommodating in patience and resolution.
Hereof the common forms are, Better eye out than
always ache ; Make or mar, etc,

For the second branch of this colour, it depends
upon the same general reason : hence grew the com-
mon place of extolling the beginning of every thing :
dimidium fact I qui bene ccepit habet. This made the
astrologers so idle as to judge of a man's nature and
destiny, by the constellation of the moment of his na-
tivity or conception. This colour is reprehended, be-
cause many inceptions are but, as Epicurus termeth
them, tentamenta, that is, imperfect offers and essays,
which vanish and come to no substance without an
iteration; so as in such cases the second degree seems
the worthiest, as the body-horse in the cart, that
draweth more than the fore^horse. Hereof the com-
mon forms are, The second blow makes the fray, the
second word makes the bargain ; Alter malo principium
dtdity alter moditm abstulit, etc. Another reprehen-
sion of this colour is in respect of defatigation, which
makes perseverance of greater dignity than inception :
for chance or instinct of nature may cause inception ;
but settled affection, or judgment, maketh the conti-
nuance.

Thirdly, This colour is reprehended in such things,
which have a natural course and inclination contrary
to an inception, So that the inception is continually
evacuated and gets no start ; as in the common form,
Non progredi est regredi, Qui nonprqfidt deficit : run-
ning against the hill; rowing against the stream, etc.
For if it be with the stream or with the hill, then the
degree of inception is more than ail the rest,

Fourthly, This colour is to be understood of gr adits
inccpiionis a potentia ad actum, comparatus cum gradu
ab act u ad increment um. For otherwise major v'dettir
gradus ab iinpotentiq ad potentiam, qu&m a pvtcnim ad
actum.

ESSAYS OR COUNSELS,

CIVIL AND MORAL.

[ 251 >

To Mr. ANTHONY BACON, his dear Brother.

Loving and beloved Brother,

I DO now, like some that have an orchard ill neigh-
boured, that gather their fruit before it is ripe, to
prevent stealing. These fragments of my conceits
were going to print ; to labour the stay of them had
been troublesome, and subject to interpretation ; to
Jet them pass had been to adventure the wrong they
might receive by untrue copies, or by some garnish-
ment which it might please any that should set them
forth to bestow upon them. Therefore I held it best
discretion to publish them myself, as they passed long
ago from my pen, without any further disgrace than
the weakness of the author. And as I did ever hold,
there might be as great a vanity in retiring and with-
drawing mens conceits, except they be of some na-
ture, from the world, as in obtruding them: so hi
these particulars I have played myself the inquisitor,
and find nothing to my understanding in them con-
trary or infectious to the state of religion, or manners,
but, rather as I suppose, medicinable. Only I dis-
liked now to put them out, because they will be like
the late new half-pence, which though the silver were
good, yet the pieces were small. But since they
would not stay with their master, but would needs
travel abroad, I have preferred them to you that are
next myself; dedicating them, such as they are, to
our love, in the depth whereof, I assure you, I some-
times wish your infirmities translated upon myself,
that her majesty might have the service of so active
and able a mind; and I might be with excuse con-
fined to these contemplations and studies, for which
3 am fittest : so commend I you to the preservation of
the divine Majesty.

Your intirc loving Brother,
From my chamber at GrayVInn, ^ ^

thib :30th of January, 1597, * RAN« JMCON.

To my loving Eroth&^^r JOHN CONSTABLE, Knight.

JVlY last Essays I dedicated to my dear brother,
Mr. Anthony Bacon, who is with God. Looking
amongst my papers this vacation, I found others of
the same nature : which if I myself shall not suffer to
be lost, it seemeth the world will not, by the often
printing of the former. Missing my brother, I found
you next ; in respect of bond both of near alliance,
and of strait friendship and society, and particularly of
communication in studies : wherein I must acknow-
ledge myself beholden to you. For as my business
found rest in my contemplations, so my contempla-
tions ever found rest in your loving conference and
judgment. So wishing you all good, I remain

1612. Your loving brother and friend,

FRAN. BACON.

To the right honourable my very good Lord the duke of
BUCKINGHAM, hisgrace3 lord high admiral of England'

Excellent Lord,

OOLOMON says, A good name is as a precious oint-
ment ; and I assure myself such will your grace's
name be with posterity. For your fortune and merit
both have been eminent : and you have planted things
that are like to last. I do now publish my Essays ;
which of all my other works have been most current :
for that, as it seems, they come home to mens busi-
ness and bosoms. I have enlarged them both in
number and weight ; so that they are indeed a new
work. I thought it therefore agreeable to my affec-
tion and obligation to your grace, to prefix your name
before them both in English and in Latin : For I do
conceive, that the Latin volume of them, being in
the universal language, may last as long as books last.
My Instauration 1 dedicated to the king: my History
of Henry the seventh, which I have now also translated
into Latin, and my portions of Natural History, to
the prince : and these I dedicate to your grace $ be-
ing of the best fruits, that by the good increase which
God gives to my pen and labours I could yield. God
lead your grace by the hand.

1625. Your grace's most obliged and faithful servant,

FRAN. Sr. ALB AN.

ESSAYS CIVIL AND MORAL.

I. Of TRUTH.

\VHAT is truth? said jesting Pilate; and would
not stay for an answer. Certainly there be that de-
light in giddiness ; and count it a bondage to fix a
belief; affecting free-will in thinking, as well as in
acting. And though the sects of philosophers of that
kind be gone, yet there remain certain discoursing
wits, which are of the same veins, though there be
not so much blood in them as was in those of the
ancients. But it is not only the difficulty and la-
bour which men take in finding out of truth ; nor
again, that when it is found, it imposeth upon men's
thoughts ; that doth bring lyes in favour : but a na-.
tural though corrupt love of the lye itself. One of
the later school of the Grecians examineth the matter,
and is at a stand to think what should be in it, that
men should love lyes ; where neither they make for
pleasure, as with poets ; nor for advantage, as with
the merchant ; but for the lye's sake. But I cannot
tell : this same truth is a naked and open day-light,
that doth not shew the masks, and mummeries, and
triumphs of the world, half so stately and daintily as
candle-lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price
of a pearl, that sheweth best by day : but it will not
rise to the price of a diamond or carbuncle, that
sheweth best in varied lights. A mixture of a lye
doth ever add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that
if there were taken out of mens minds, vain opinions,
flattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as
one would, and the like ; but it would leave the
minds of a number of men, poor shrunken things ;
full of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing.

Essays, Civil and Moral.

to themselves ? One of the fathers, in great severity*
called poesy, vhium dtemomun ; because it filleth the
imagination, and yet it is but with the shadow of a lye.
But it is not the lye that passeth through the mind,
but the Jye that sinketh in, and settleth in it, that
doth the hurt, such as we spake of before. But
howsoever these things are thus in mens depraved
judgments and affections, yet truth, which only doth
judge itself, teacheth, that the inquiry of truth, which
is the love making, or wooing ot it ; the knowledge
of truth, which is the presence of it ; and the belief
of truth, which is the enjoying of it ; is the sovereign
good of human nature. The first creature of God,
in the works of the days, was the light of the sense >
the last was the light of reason ; and his sabbath work
ever since is the illumination of his Spirit. First he
breathed light upon the face of the matter, or chaos ;
then he breathed light into the face of man ; and still
he breatheth and inspireth light into the face of his
chosen. The poet that beautified the sect, that was
otherwise inferior to the rest, saith yet excellently
well : " It is a pleasure to stand upon the shore and
" to see ships tost upon the sea : a pleasure to stand
*c in the window of a castle, and to see a battle, and
<c the adventures thereof below : but no pleasure is
€C comparable to the standing upon the vantage
" ground of truth, a hill not to be commanded, and
<c where the air is always clear and serene : and to see
" the errors, and -wanderings, and mists, and tem-
" pests, in the vale below :" so always, that this pros-
pect be with pity, and not with swelling or pride.
Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man's
mind move in charity, rest in providence, and turn
upon the poles of truth.

To pass from theological and philosophical truth,
to the truth of civil business ; it will be acknowledged,
even by those that practise it not, that clear and
round dealing is the honour of man's nature ; and that
mixture of falshood is like allay in coin of gold and
silver -, which may make the metal work the better,
but it embaseth it. For these winding and crooked

Essays, Civil and Moral. 255

courses are the goings of the serpent; which goeth
basely upon the belly, and not upon the feet. There
is no vice that doth so cover a man with shame, as to
be found false and perfidious. And therefore Mon-
tague saith prettily, when he inquired the reason,
why the word of the lye should be such a disgrace,
and such an odious charge ? Saith he, " If it be well
" weighed, to say a man lyeth, is as much as to say,
" that he is brave towards God, and a coward towards
" men. For a lye faces God, and shrinks from man/'
Surely the wickedness of falshood, and breach of
faith, cannot possibly be so highly expressed, as in
that it shall be the last peal to call the judgments of
God upon the generations of men : it being foretold;
that when Christ cometh lie shall not find faith upon
the earth.

II. Of DEATH.

MEN fear death, as children fear to go in the
dark : and as that natural fear in children is increased
with tales, so is the other. Certainly, the contempla-
tion of death, as the wages of sin, and passage to
another world, is holy and religious ; but the fear of
it, as a tribute due unto nature, is weak. Yet in re-
ligious meditations, there js sometimes mixture of
vanity and of superstition. You shall read in some of
the friars books of mortification, that a man should
think with himself, what the pain is, if he have but his
finger's end pressed or tortured ; and thereby imagine
what the pains of death are, when the whole body is
corrupted and dissolved ; when many times death
passeth with less pain than the torture of a limb : for
the most vital parts are not the quickest of sense.
And by him that spake only as a philosopher, and
natural man, it was well said, Pompa mortis magis
terret, quam mors ipsa. Groans, and convulsions, and
a discoloured face, and friends weeping, and blacks,
and obsequies, and the like, shew death terrible. It
is worthy the observing, that there is no passion in
the mind of man so weak, but it mates and masters
the fear of death : and therefore death is no such
terrible enemy, when a man hath so many attendants

256 Essays^ Civil -and Moral.

about him, that can win the combat of him. Revenge
triumphs over death ; love slights it ; honour aspireth
to it j grief flieth to it ; fear pre-occupateth it : nay,
we read, after Otho the emperor had slain himself,
pity, which is the tenderest of affections, provoked
many to die, out of mere compassion to their sove-
reign, and as the truest sort of followers. Nay, Se-
neca adds, niceness and satiety ; cogita quamdiu eadem
feceris ; mori velle, non tantum fortis, aut miser sed
etiamfastidiosits potest. A man would die, though he
were neither valiant nor miserable, only upon a
weariness to do the same thing so oft over and over.
It is no less worthy to observe, how little alteration
Ifn good spirits the approaches of death make ; for
they appear to be the same men till the last instant.
Augustus Caesar died in a compliment ; Livia, con-
jugii nostri memor vive, et vale. Tiberius in dissimu-
lation ; as Tacit us saith pf him ; Jam Tiber turn vires et
corpus,, non dissimulation deserebant. Vespasian in a
jest ; sitting upon the stool ; Ut puto Deusjio. Galba
with a sentence; Feri, si ex re sit populi Romani ;
holding forth his neck. Septimius Severus in dispatch ;
Adeste, si quid mihi restat agendum : and the like.
Certainly the Stoics bestowed too much cost upon
death, and by their great preparations made it appear
more fearful. Better saith he, qui finem mice ex-
tremum inter mimcra ponit nature. It is as natural to
die, as to be born ; and to a little infant, perhaps, the
One is as painful as the other. He that dies in an
earnest pursuit, is like one that is wounded in hot
blood ; who, for the time, scarce feels the hurt ;
and therefore a mind fixt and bent upon somewhat
that is good, doth avert the dolors of death : but
above all, believe it, the sweetest canticle is, Nunc.
dimittis ; when a man hath obtained worthy ends and
expectations. Death hath this also ; that it openeth
the gate to good fame, and extinguished! envy.—
amabitur idem.

Essays, Civil and Moral. 257

III. Of UNITJ IN RELIGION.

RELIGION being the chief band of human so-
ciety, it is a happy thing, when itself is well con-
tained within the true band of unity. The quarrels
and divisions about religion were evils unknown to
the heathen. The reason was, because the religion
of the heathen consisted rather in rites and cere-
monies, than in any constant belief. For you may
imagine what kind of faith theirs was, when the chief
doctors and fathers of their church were the poets.
But the true God hath this attribute, that he is a
jealous God; and therefore his worship and religion
will endure no mixture nor partner. We shall there-
fore speak a few words concerning the unity of the
church ; what are the fruits thereof; what the bounds ;
and W7hat the means.

The fruits of unity, next unto the well-pleasing of
God, which is all in all, are two ; the one towards
those that are without the church ; the other towards
those that are within. For the former; it is certain,
that heresies and schisms are of all others the greatest
scandals ; yea more than corruption of manners. For
as in the natural body, a wound or solution of con-
tinuity, is worse than a corrupt humour ; so in the
spiritual. So that nothing doth so much keep men
out of the church, and drive men out of the church, as
breach of unity : and therefore, whensoever it cornel li
to that pass, that one saith, CTO;J in deserto ; another saith,
ecce in penetralibus ; that is, when some men seek Christ
in the conventicles of heretics, and others in an outward
face of a church, that voice had need continually to
sound in men's ears, 120/2/1 exire9go not out. The doctor
of the Gentiles, the propriety of whose vocation drew
him to have a special care of those without, saith ; If an
heathen come in, and hear you speak i:ith several tongues,
zcil{ he not say that you are mad f And certainly it is
little better, when atheists, and profane persons, do
hear of so many discordant and contrary opinions in
religion ; it doth avert them from the church, and
niaketh them to sit down in the chair of the scorners*

VOL. ii. s

258 Essays, Civil and Moral.

It is but a light tiling to be vouched in so serious a
manner, but yet it expresseth well the deformity :
There is a master of scoffing ; that in his catalogue
of books of a feigned library sets down this title of
a book ; " The Morris dance of Heretiques." For
indeed every sect of them hath a diverse posture or
cringe by themselves, which cannot but move derision
in worldlings and depraved politics, who are apt to
contemn holy things.

As for the fruit towards those that are within, it is
peace; which containeth infinite blessings: it esta-
bJisheth faith: it kindleth charity; the outward peace
of the church distilleth into peace o£ conscience ; and
it turneth the labours of writing and reading of con-
troversies into treatises of mortification and devotion.

Concerning the bonds of unity ; the true placing of
them importeth exceedingly. There appear to be
two extremes. For to certain zealots all speech of
pacification is odious. Is it peace, Jehu? What hast
thou to do with peace ? tarn thee behind me. Peace is
not the matter, but following and party. Contrari-
wise, certain Laodiceans, and lukewarm persons think
they may accommodate points of religion by middle-
ways, and taking part of both, and witty reconcile-
ments-; as if they would make an arbitrament between
God and man. Both these extremes are to be avoided ;
which will be done, if the league of Christians, penned
by our Saviour himself, were in the two cross clauses
thereof, soundly and plainly expounded : he that is not
with us is against us: and again, he that is not against
its is with us : that is, if the points fundamental, and
of substance, in religion, were truly discerned and dis-
tinguished from points not merely of faith, but of
opinion, order or good intention. This is a thing may
seem to many a matter trivial, and done already ; but
if it were done less partially, it would be embraced
more generally.

Of this I may give only this advice, according to
my small model. Men ought tOvtake heed of rending
God's church by two kinds of controversies. The
one is, when the matter of the point controverted is

Essays, Civil and Moral 259

too small and light, not worth the heat and strife
about it, kindled only by contradiction. For, as it is
noted by one of the fathers, Christ's coat indeed had
no seam ; but the church's vesture was of divers co-
lours : whereupon he saith, in veste varielas sit, scis-
sura -non sit ; they be two things, unity and uniformity.
The other is, when the matter of the point contro-
verted is great; but it is driven to an over-great sub-
tilty and obscurity ; so that it becometh a thing rather
ingenious than substantial. A man that is of judg-
ment and understanding, shall sometimes hear igno-
rant men differ, and know well within himself, that
those who so differ mean one thing, and yet they
themselves would never agree. And if it come so to
pass in that distance of judgment which is between
man and man, shall we not think that God above,
that knows the heart, doth not discern that frail men,
in some of their contradictions, intend the same thing,
and accepteth of both? The nature of such contro-
versies is excellently expressed by' St. Paul, in the
warning and precept that he giveth concerning the
same, devita prof anas vocum novitateS) et oppositiones
falsi nominis scientiig. Men create oppositions which
are not ; and put them into new terms so fixed, as,
whereas the meaning ought to govern the term, the
term in effect governeth the meaning. There be also
two false peaces or unities; the one when the peace
is grounded but upon an implicit ignorance ; for all
colours will agree in the dark : the other, when it is
pieced up upon a direct admission of contraries in
fundamental points. For truth and falsehood, in such
things, are like the iron and clay in the tqes of Nebu-
chadnezzar's image $ they may cleave, buf'they will
not incorporate.

Concerning the means of procuring unity; men
must beware, that in the procuring or rnuniting of re-
ligious unity, they do not dissolve and deface the laws
of charity, and of human society. There be- two
-swords amongst Christians, the spiritual and tempo-
ral ; and both have their due office and place in the
maintenance of religion. But we may not take up the

s 2

260 Essays, Civil and Moral.

third sword, which is Mahomet's sword, or like unto
it ; that is, to propagate religion by wars, or by san-
guinary persecutions to force consciences; except it
be in cases of overt scandal, blasphemy, or intermix-
ture of practice against the state ; much Jess to nou-
rish seditions; to authorise conspiracies and rebel-
lions ; to put the sword into the peoples hands, and the
like, tending to the subversion, of all government,
which is the ordinance of God. For this is but to
dash the first table against the second ; and so to con-
sider men as Christians, as we forget that they are
men. Lucretius the poet, when he beheld the act of
Agamemnon, that could endure the sacrificing of his
own daughter, exclaimed ;

Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum.
What would he have said, if he had known of the
massacre in France, or the powder-treason of Eng-
land ? He would have been seven times more epi-
cure and atheist than he was: for as the temporal
sword is to be drawn with great circumspection, in
cases of religion ; so it is a thing monstrous to put it
into the hands of the common people. Let that be
left unto the anabaptists, and other furies. It was
great blasphemy when the devil said, I will ascend and
be like the Highest ; but it is greater blasphemy to per-
sonate God, and bring him in, saying/6 I will descend,
" and be like the prince of darkness." And what is it
better to make the cause of religion to descend to the
cruel and execrable actions of murthering princes,
butchery of people, and subversion of states and go-
vernments ? Surely, this is to bring down the Holy
Ghost, instead of the likeness of a dove, in the shape
of a vulture or raven: and to set, out of the bark of a
Christian church, a flag of a bark of pirates and as-
sassins. Therefore it is most necessary, that the
church by doctrine and decree ; princes by their
sword; and all learning, both Christian arid moral, as
by their mercury rod ; do damn and send to hell for
ever those facts and opinions, tending to the support
of the same ; as hath been already in good part done.
Surely in counsels concerning religion, that counsel of

Essays, Civil and Moral. 26 1

the apostle should be prefixed ; Ira hominis non implct
justitiam Dei. And it was a notable observation of a
wise father, and no less ingenuously confessed ; That
those which held and persuaded pressure of con-
sciences, were commmonly interested therein them-
selves for their own ends.

IV. Of REVENGE.

REVENGE is a kind of wild justice, which the
more man's nature runs to, the more ought law to
weed it out. For as for the first wrong, it doth but
offend the law ; but the revenge of that wrong putteth
the law out of office. Certainly in taking revenge, a
man is but even with his enemy; but in passing it
over, he is superior : for it is a prince's part to pardon.
And Solomon, I am sure, saith, It is the glory of a
man to pass by an offence. That which is past is gone
and irrevocable, and wise men have enough to do
with things present and to come : therefore they do
but trifle with themselves that labour in past matters.
There is no man doth a wrong for the wrong's sake ;
but thereby to purchase himself profit, or pleasure, or
honour, or the like. Therefore why should I be an-
gry with a man for loving himself better than me ?
And if any man should do wrong, merely out of ill
nature, why ? yet it is but like the thorn or brier,
which prick and scratch because they can do no other.
The most tolerable sort of revenge is for those wrongs
which there is no law to remedy : but then'let a man
take heed the revenge be such as there is no law to
punish ; else a man's enemy is still beforehand, and it
is two for one. Some, when they take revenge, are
desirous the party should know whence it cometh :
this is the more generous. For the delight seemeth to
be not so much in doing the hurt, as in making the
party repent : but base and crafty cowards are like the
arrow that flieth in the dark. Cosmus, duke of Flo-
rence, had a desperate saying against perfidious or
neglecting friends, as if those wrongs were unpardon-
able. " You shall read, saith he, that we are com-
" manded to forgive our enemies ; but you never read,

262 Essays, Civil and Moral.

" that we are commanded to forgive our friends."
But yet the spirit of Job was in a better tune ; Shalt
zee, saith he, take good at God's hands, and not he con-
tent to take evil also? And so of friends in a proportion.
This is certain, that a man that studieth revenge,
keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would
heal, and do well. Public revenges are for the most
part fortunate : as that for the death of Cassar ; for the
death of Pertinax; for the death of Henry the Third
of France ; and many more ; but in private revenges
it is not so; nay rather, vindictive persons live the;
life of witches ; who as they are mischievous, so end
they unfortunate.

V. Of ADVERSITY.

IT was an high speech of Seneca, after the manner
of the Stoics, that the good things which belong tq
prosperity are to be wished, but the good things that
belong to adversity are to be admired: Bona rennn
secundarum optabilia, adders arum mirabilia. Cer-
tainly if miracles be the command over nature, they
appear most in adversity. It is yet a higher speech
of his than the other, much too high for a heathen, It
is true greatness to have in one the frailty of a man,
and the security of a God : Vere magnum, habere fra-
giiitatem hominis, securitatem Dei. This would have
done better in poesy, where transcendencies are more
allowed. And the poets indeed have been busy with
it; for itisin effect the thing which is figured in that
strange fiction of the ancient poets, which seemeth not
to be without mystery ; nay, and to have some ap^
proach to the state of a Christian: that Hercules,
when he went to unbind Prometheus, by whom hu-
man nature is represented, sailed the length of the
great ocean in an earthen pot or pitcher; lively de-
scribing Christian resolution, that saileth in the frail
bark'of the flesh through the waves of the world. Hut
to speak in a mean: the virtue of prosperity is tem-
perance; the virtue. of adversity is fortitude; which
in morals is the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is
the blessing of the Old Testament ; adversity is the

Essays, Civil and Moral. 263

blessing of the New, which carrieth the greater bene-
diction, and the clearer revelation of God's favour.
Yet, even in the Old Testament, if you listen to Da-
vid's harp, you shall hear as many hearse-like airs as
carols: and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath la-
boured more in describing the afflictions of Job than
the felicities of Solomon. Prosperity is not without
many fears and distastes ; and adversity is not without
comforts and hopes. We see in needle-works and
embroideries, it is more pleasing to have a lively work
upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark
and melancholy work upon a lightsome ground : judge
therefore of the pleasure of the heart by the pleasure
of the eye. Certainly virtue is like precious odours,
most fragrant when they are incensed, or crushed;
for prosperity doth best discover vice, but adversity
doth best discover virtue.

VI. Of SIMULATION and DISSIMULATION.

DISSIMULATION is but a faint kind of policy,
or wisdom ; for it asketh a strong wit, and a strong
heart, to know when to tell truth, and to do it.
Therefore it is the weaker sort of politicians that are
the great dissemblers.

Tacitus saith, Livia sorted well with the arts of her
husband, and dissimulation of her son; attributing
arts or policy to Augustus, and dissimulation to Tibe-
rius. And again, when Mucianus encourageth Ves-
pasian to take arms against Vitellius, he saith ; We
rise not against the piercing judgment of Augustus,
nor the extreme caution or closeness of Tiberius.
These properties of arts or policy, arvd dissimulation
or closeness, are indeed habits and faculties several,
and to be distinguished. For if a man have that pe-
netration of judgment as he can discern what things
are to be laid open, and what to be secreted, and what
to be shewed at half lights, and to whom and when,
which indeed are arts of state, and arts of life, as Ta-
citus well calleth them, to him a habit of dissimula-
tion is a hindrance and a poorness. But if a man
cannot obtain to that judgment, then it is left to him,

264 Essays, Civil and Moral.

generally to be close and a dissembler. For where a
man cannot choose, or vary in particulars, there it is
good to take the safest and wariest way in general;
like the going softly by one that cannot well see.
Certainly the ablest men that ever were, have had all
an openness and frankness of dealing, and a name of
certainty and veracity; but then they were like horses
well managed ; for they could tell passing well when
to stop or turn : and at such times, when they thought
the case indeed required dissimulation, if then they
used it, it came to pass, that the former opinion spread
abroad of their good faith and clearness of dealing
made them almost invisible.

There be three degrees of this hiding and veiling of
a man's self. The first, closeness, reservation, and
secrecy, when a man leaveth himself without obser-
vation, or without hold to be taken, what he is. The
second, dissimulation in the negative, when a man
Jets fall signs and arguments, that he is not that he is.
And the third, simulation in the affirmative, when a
man industriously and expressly feigns and pretends to
be that he is not.

For the first of these, secrecy; it is indeed the virtue
of a confessor ; and assuredly the secret man heareth
many confessions ; for who will open himself to a
blab or a babbler ? but if a man be thought secret, it
inviteth discovery; as the more close air sucketh in
the more open : and as in confession the revealing is
not for worldly use, but for the ease of a man's heart;
so secret men come to knowledge of many things in
that kind; while men rather discharge their minds
than impart their minds. In few words, mysteries are
due to secrecy. Besides, to say the truth, nakedness is
uncomely as well in mind as body; and it addeth no
small reverence to mens manners and actions it they
be not altogether open. As for talkers and futile per-
sons, they are commonly- vain and credulous withal.
For he that talketh what he knoweth, will also talk
what he knoweth not. Therefore set it down, that
an habit of secrecy is both politic and moral. And in
this part it is good that a man's face give his tongue

Essays, Civil and Moral. 265

leave to speak. For the discovery of a man's self by
the tracts of his countenance is a great weakness in
betraying ; by how much it is many times more
marked and believed than a man's words.

For the second, which is dissimulation ; it followeth
many times upon secrecy, by a necessity : so that he
that will be secret must be a dissembler in some de-
gree. For men are too cunning to suffer a man to
keep an indifferent carriage between both, and to be
secret without swaying the balance on either side.
They will so beset a man with questions, and draw
him on, and pick it out of him, that, without an ab-
surd silence, he must shew an inclination one way ; or
if he do not, they will gather as much by his silence
as by his speech. As for equivocations or oraculous
speeches, they cannot hold out long. So that no
man can be secret, except he give himself a little
scope of dissimulation , which is as it were but the
skirts or train of secrecy.

But for the third degree, which is simulation and
false profession; that I hold more culpable and less
politic, except it be in great and rare matters. And
therefore a general custom of simulation, which is this
last degree, is a vice rising either of a natural false-
ness or fearfulness, or of a mind that hath some main
faults; which because a man must needs disguise, it
maketh him practise simulation in other things, lest
his hand should be out of use.

The great advantages of simulation and dissimula-
tion are three. First, to lay asleep opposition, and to
surprise. For where a man's intentions are pub-
lished, it is an alarm to call up all that are against
them. The second is, to reserve to a man's self a fair
retreat : for if a man engage himself by a manifest de-
claration, he must go through, or take a fall. The
third is, the better to discover the mind of another.
For to him that opens himself, men will hardly shew
themselves adverse; but will fairly let him go on, and
turn their freedom of speech to freedom of thought.
And therefore it is a good shrewd proverb of the Spa-
niard, Tell a lie, and find a truth. As if there were

266 Essays, Civil and Moral.

no way of discovery but by simulation. There be also
three disadvantages to set it even. The first, that si-
mulation and dissimulation commonly carry with
them a shew of Tearfulness, which in any business doth
spoil the feathers of round riving up to the mark. The
second, that it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceits
of many, that perhaps would otherwise co-operate
with him; and makes a man walk, almost alone, to
his own ends. The third and greatest is, that it de-
priveth a man of one of the most principal instru-
ments for action ; which is trust and belief. The
best composition and temperature is, to have open-
ness in fame and opinion; secrecy in habit ; dissimu-
lation in seasonable use ; and a power to feign, if there
be no remedy.

VII. Of PARENTS and CHILDREN.

THE joys of parents are secret ; and so are their
griefs and fears : they cannot. utter the one, nor they
will not utter the other. Children sweeten labours ;
but they make misfortunes more bitter: they increase
the cares of life, but they mitigate the remembrance of
death. The perpetuity by generation is common to
beasts; but memory, merit, and noble works are pro-
per to men: and surely a man shall see the noblest
works and foundations have proceeded from childless
men ; which have sought to express the images of
their minds, where those of their bodies have failed :
so the care of posterity is most in them that have no
posterity. They that are the first raisers of their
houses, are most indulgent towards their children ;
beholding them as the continuance, not only of their
kind, but of their work j and so both children and
creatures.

The difference in affection of parents towards their
several children is many times unequal; and some-
times unworthy; especially in the mother; as Solo-
mon saith, A irise. son rejoice I li the fat her, hut an ungra-
cious son shames the mother. A man shall see, where
there is a house kill of children, one or two of the
eldest respected, and the youngest made wantons;

Essays, Civil and Moral. 267

but in the midst, some that are as it were forgotten, who
many times nevertheless prove the best. The illibera-
]ity of parents in allowance towards their children, is
an harmful error; makes them base; acquaints them
with shifts; makes them sort with mean company;
and makes them surfeit more when they come to
plenty: and therefore the proof is best when men
keep their authority towards their children, but not
their purse. Men have a foolish manner, both pa-
rents and school-masters, and servants, in creatingand
breeding an emulation between brothers, during
childhood, which many times sorteth to discord when
they are men, and disturbeth families. The Italians
make little difference between children and nephews,
or near kinsfolks; but so they be of the lump they care
not, though they pass not through their own body.
And, to say truth, in nature it is much a like matter;
insomuch that we see a nephew sometimes resembleth
an uncle, or a kinsman, more than his own parent; as
the blood happens. Let parents choose betimes the
vocations and courses they mean their children should
take; fqr then they are most flexible, and let them
not too much apply themselves to the dispositions of
their children, as thinking they will take best to that
which they have most mind to. It is true, that if the
affection or aptness of the children be extraordinary,
then it is good not to cross it; but generally the precept '
is good, Optimum elige, suave et facile illudfacict con-
siwtudo. Younger brothers are commonly fortunate,
but seldom or never where the elder are disinherited.

VIII. Of MARRIAGE and SINGLE LIFE.

HE that hath wife and children, hath given hos-
tages to fortune ; for they are impediments to great
enterprises, either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the
best works and of greatest merit for the public, have
proceeded from the unmarried or childless men :
which both in affection and means have married and
endowed the public. Yet it were great reason, that
those that have children should have greatest care
of future times j unto which they know they must

26S Essays, Civil and Moral.

transmit their dearest pledges. Some there are, who
though they lead a single life, yet their thoughts do
end with themselves, and account future times imper-
tinences. Nay, there are some other, that account
wife and children but as bills of charges. Nay more,
there are some foolish rich covetous men, that take a
pride in having no children, because they may be
thought so much the richer. For perhaps they have
heard some talk, Such a one is a great rich man; and
another except to it, Yea, but he hath a great charge of
children : as if it were an abatement to his riches.
But the most ordinary cause of a single life is liberty;
especially in certain self-pleasing and humourous
minds, which are so sensible of every restraint, as
they will go near to think their girdles and garters to
be bonds and shackles. Unmarried men are best
friends, best masters, best servants, but not always
best subjects ; for they are light to run away ; and al-
most all fugitives are of that condition. A single life
doth well with churchmen : for charity will hardly
water the ground, where it must first fill a pool. It is
indifferent for judges and magistrates: for if they be
facile and corrupt, you shall have a servant five times
worse than a wife. For soldiers, I find the generals
commonly, in their hortatives, put men in mind of
their wives and children. And I think the despising
of marriage amongst the Turks, maketh the vulgar
soldiers more base. Certainly, wife and children are
a kind of discipline of humanity : and single men,
though they be many times more charitable, because
their means are less exhausted ; yet on the other side,
they are more cruel and hard-hearted, good to make
severe inquisitors, because their tenderness is not so
oft called upon. Grave natures, led by custom, and
therefore constant, are commonly loving husbands ;
as was said of Ulysses, vetulam suam pnetulit immor-
talitati. Chaste women are often proud and froward,
as presuming upon the merit of their chastity. It is
one of the best bonds, both of chastity and obedience,
in the wife, if she think her husband wise ; which she
will never do if she find him jealous. Wives are

Essays, Civil and Moral. 269

young mens mistresses ; companions for middle age ;
and old mens nurses. So as a man may have a quarrel
to marry when he will. But yet he was reputed one
of the wise men, that made answer to the question,
when a man should marry ? " A young man not yet,
" an elder man not at all." It is often seen, that
bad husbands have very good wives ; whether it be,
that it raiseth the price of their husband's kindness
when it comes ; or that the wives take a pride in their
patience. But this never fails if the bad husbands
were of their own chusing, against their friends con-
sent ; for then they will be sure to make good their
own folly.

IX. Qf ENVY.

THERE be none of the affections which have been
noted to fascinate or bewitch, but love and envy.
They both have vehement wishes ; they frame them-
selves readily into imaginations and suggestions : and
they come easily into the eye ; especially upon the
presence of the objects \ which are the points that
conduce to fascination, if any such thing there be. We
see likewise, the Scripture calleth envy an evil eye :
and the astrologers call the evil influences of the stars,
evil aspects ; so that still there seemeth to be acknow-
ledged in the act of envy, an ejaculation, or irradia-
tion of the eye. Nay, some have been so curious, as
to note, that the times when the stroke or percussion
of an envious eye doth most hurt, are, when the party
envied is beheld in glory or triumph ; for that sets an
edge upon envy : and besides, at such times, the
spirits of the person envied do come forth most into
the outward parts, and so meet the blow.

But leaving these curiosities, though not unworthy
to be thought on in fit place, we will handle, what
persons are apt to envy others; what persons are
most subject to be envied themselves; and what is the
difference between public and private envy.

A man that hath no virtue in himself, ever envieth
virtue in others. For mens minds will either feed
upon their own good, or upon others evil ; and who

270 Essays, Civil and Moral.

wanteth the one, will prey upon the other: and whoso
is out of hope to attain another's virtue, will seek to
come at e\cn hand by depressing another's fortune.

A man that is busy and inquisitive, is commonly en-
vious: for to know much of other mens matters cannot
be, because all that ado may concern his own estate :
therefore it must needs be, that he taketh a kind of
play-pleasure in looking upon the fortunes of others ;
neither can he that mindeth but his own business find
much matter for envy. For envy is a gadding pas-
sion, and walketh the streets, and doth not keep at
home : Non est curios us, quin idem sit malei'olus.

Men of noble birth are noted to be envious towards
new men when they rise : for the distance is altered ;
and it is like a deceit of the eye, that when others
come on, they think themselves go back.

Deformed persons and eunuchs, and old men and
bastards, are envious : for he that cannot possibly
mend his own case, will do what he can to impair
another's ; except these defects light upon a very
brave and heroical nature, which thinketh to make .
his natural wants part of his honour ; in that it should
be said, that an eunuch or a lame man did such great
matters \ affecting the honour of a miracle : as it was
in Narses the eunuch, and Agesilaus and Tamerlane,
that were lame men.

The same is the case of men that rise after calami-
ties and misfortunes ; for they are as men fallen out
with the times ; and think other mens harms a re-
demption of their own sufferings.

They that desire to excel in too many matters, out
of levity and vain-glory, are ever envious, for they
cannot want work ; it being impossible but many,
in some one of those things, should surpass them.
Which wras the character of Adrian the emperor, that
mortally envied poets, and painters, and artificers,
in works wherein he had a vein to excel.

Lastly, near kinsfolks, and fellows in office, and
those that have been bred together, are more apt to
envy their equals when they are raised. For it doth
upbraid unto them their own fortunes, and pointeth

Essays y Citiil and Mordl. 27 1

at them, and cometh oftener into their remembrance,
and incurreth likewise more into the note of others;
and envy ever redoubleth from speech and fame.
Cain's envy was the more vile and malignant towards
his brother Abel, because, when his sacrifice was
better accepted, there was no body to look on. Tims
much for those that are apt to envy.

Concerning those that are more or less subject to
envy : First, persons of eminent virtue, when they
are advanced, are less envied. For their fortune
seemeth but due unto them ; and no man envieth the
payment of a debt, but rewards, and liberality rather.
Again, envy is ever joined with the comparing of a
man's self; and where there is no comparison, no
envy; and therefore kings are not envied but by kings.
Nevertheless it is to be noted, that unworthy persons
are most -envied at their first coming in, and after-
wards overcome it better ; whereas contrariwise,
persons of worth and merit are most envied when their
fortune continueth long. For by that time, though
their virtue be the same, yet it hath not the same
lustre; for fresh men grow up that darken it.

Persons of noble blood are less envied in their ris-
ing; for it seemeth but right done to their birth : be-
sides, there seemeth not much added to their fortune ;
and envy is as the sun-beams, that beat hotter upon
a bank or steep rising ground than upon a flat. And
for the same reason, those that are advanced by de-
grees, are less envied than those that are advanced
suddenly, and per saltinn.

Those that have joined with their honour, great
travels, cares, or perils, are less subject to envy : for
men think that they earn their honours hardly, and
pity them sometimes; and pity ever healeth envy:
wherefore you shall observe, that the more deep and
sober sort of politic persons, in their greatness, are
ever bemoaning themselves what a life they lead,
chanting a Quanta patimur : not that they feel it so,
but only to abate the edge of envy. But this is to be
understood of business that is laid upon men, and not
such as they call unto themselves ; for nothing ia-

272 Essays, Civil and Moral.

creaseth envy more, than an unnecessary and ambi-
tious ingrossing of business: and nothing doth extin-
guish envy more, than for a great person to preserve
all other inferior officers in their full rights and pre-
eminences of their places : for by that means there be
so many screens between him and envy.

Above all, those are most subject to envy, which
carry the greatness of their fortunes in an inso-
lent and proud manner; being never well but while
they are shewing how great they are, either by out-
ward pomp, or by triumphing over all opposition or
competition : whereas wise men will rather do sacri-
fice to envy, in suffering themselves sometimes of pur-
pose to be crossed and overborn in things that do not
much concern them. Notwithstanding, so much is
true : that the carriage of greatness in a plain and
open manner, so it be without arrogancy and vain-
glory, doth draw less envy, than if it be in a more
crafty and cunning fashion. For in that course a man
doth but disavow fortune, and seemeth to be con-
scious of his own want in worth, and doth but teach
others to envy him.

Lastly, to conclude this part ; as we said in the be-
ginning, that the act of envy had somewhat in it of
witchcraft, so there is no other cure of envy, but the
cure of witchcraft : and that is, to remove the lot, as
they call it, and to lay it upon another. For which
purpose, the wiser sort of great persons bring in ever
upon the stage somebody upon whom to derive the
envy that would come upon themselves ; sometimes
upon ministers and servants, sometimes upon col-
leagues and associates, and the like : and for that
turn, there are never wanting some persons of violent
and undertaking natures, who, so they may have
power and business, will take it at any cost.

Now to speak of public envy. There is yet some
good in public envy, whereas in private there is none.
For public envy is as an ostracism, that eclipseth men
when they grow too great: and therefore it is a bridle
also to great ones, to keep them within bounds.

This envy, being in the Latin word invidia, goeth
in the modern languages by the name of discontent*

Essay Sy Civil and Moral. 273

ment ; of which we shall speak in handling sedition.
It is a disease in a state like to infection : for as in-
fection spreadeth upon that which is sound, and taint-
cth it ; so when envy is gotten once into a state, it
traduceth even the best actions thereof, and turneth
them into an ill odour; and therefore there is little
won by intermingling of plausible actions : for that
doth argue but a weakness and fear of envy, which
hurteth so much the more; as it is likewise usual in
infections, which if -you fear them, you call them
upon you.

This public envy seemeth to beat chiefly upon prin-
cipal officers or ministers, rather than -upon kings and
estates themselves. But this is a sure rule, that if
the envy upon the minister be great, when the cause
of it in him is small ; or if the envy be general in a
manner upon all the ministers of an estate, then the
envy, though hidden, is truly upon the state itself.
And so much of public envy or discontentment, and
the difference thereof from private envy, which was
handled in the first place.

We will add this in general touching the affection
of envy: that of all other affections, it is the most
importunate and continual : for of other affections
there is occasion given but now and then; and there-
fore it is well said, Invidia fcstos dies non aglt : for it is
ever working upon some or other. And it is also noted,
that love and envy do make a man pine, which other
affections do not, because they are not so continual.
It is also the vilest affection, and the most depraved ;
for which cause it is the proper attribute of the devil,
\vho is called, the envious man^ that soiceth tares amongst
the wheat by night: as it always comcth to pass, that
envy worketh subtilly, and in the dark; and to the
prejudice of good things, such as is the wheat.

X. Of LOVE.

THE stage is more beholden to love, than the life
of man. For as to the stage, love is ever matter of
comedies, and now and then of tragedies ; but in
lite it doth much mischief, sometimes like a siren,

VOL. II. X

274- Essays, Civil and Moral.

sometimes like a fury. You may observe, that amongst
all the great and worthy persons, whereof the memory
remaineth, either ancient or recent, there is not one
that hath been transported to the mad degree of love ;
which shews, that great spirits and great business do
keep out this weak passion. You must except ne-
vertheless Marcus Antonius the partner of the em-
pire of Rome, and Appius Claudius the decemvir and
lawgiver ; whereof the former was indeed a volup-
tuous man and inordinate; but the latter was an aus-
tere and wise man : and therefore it seems, though
rarely, that love can find entrance, not only into an
open heart, but also into a heart well fortified, if
watch be not well kept. It is a poor saying of Epi-
curus ; Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus : as
if man, made for the contemplation of heaven, and
all noble objects, should do nothing but kneel before
a little idol, and make himself the subject though not
of the mouth, as beasts are, yet of the eye, which
was given him for higher purposes. It is a strange
thing to note the excess of this passion ; and how it
braves the nature and value of things by this, that the
speaking in a perpetual hyperbole is comely in no-
thing but in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase j
for whereas it hath been well said, that the arch flat-
terer, with whom all the petty flatterers have intelli-
gence, is a man's self; certainly the lover is more.
For there was never proud man thought so absurdly
well of himself, as the lover doth of the person loved ;
and therefore it was well said, that it is impossible
to love, and to be wise. Neither doth this weak-
ness appear to others only, and not to the party loved,
but to the loved most of all; except the love be reci-
procal. For it is a true rule, that love is ever re-
warded either with the reciprocal, or with an inward
and secret contempt: by how much the more men
ought to beware of this passion, which loseth not only
other things, but itself. As for the other losses, the
poet's relation doth well figure them ; that he that
preferred Helena, quitted the gifts of Juno and Pallas:
for whoboever estccmeth too much of amorous affec-

Essays, Civil and Moral. 275

tion, quitteth both riches and wisdom. This passion
hath its floods in the very times of weakness, which
are great prosperity, and great adversity; though this
Jatter hath been less observed : both which times
kindle love, and make it more fervent, and therefore
shew it to be the child of folly. They do best, who,
if they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep quar-
ter ; and sever it only from their serious affairs and
actions of life: for if it check once with business, it
troubleth mens fortunes, and maketh men that they
can no ways be true to their own ends. I know not
how, but martial men are given to love :: 1 think it
is, but as they are given to wine ; for perils com-
monly ask to be paid in pleasures. There is in man's
nature a secret inclination and motion towards love
of others, which, if it be not spent upon some one or
a few, doth naturally spread itself towards many, and
maketh men become humane and charitable ; as it is
seen sometimes in friers. Nuptial love maketh man-
kind ; friendly love perfecteth it ; but wanton love
corrupteth and embaseth it.

XL Of GREAT PL ACE.

MEN in great place are thrice servants : servants
of the sovereign or state •; servants of fame ; and
servants of business : so as they have no freedom, nei-
ther in their persons, nor in their actions, nor in their
times. It is a strange desire, to seek power, and to
lose liberty ; or to seek power over others, and to lose
power over a man's self. The rising unto place is la-
borious; and by pains men come to greater pains; and
it is sometimes base and by indignities men come to
dignities. The standing is slippery, and the regress
is either a dovvnfal> or at least an eclipse, which is a
melancholy thing. Cum non sis qui fueris,. non essc
cur veils vivere? Nay, men cannot retire when they
would ; neither will they when it were reason : but
are impatient of privateness, even in age and sickness,
which require the shadow: like old townsmen, that
will be still sitting at their street door, though there-
by they offer age to scorn. Certainly great persons

T2

276 Essays, Civil and Moral.

had need to borrow other mens opinions to think
themselves happy ; for if they judge by their own
feeling, they cannot find it ; 'but if they think with
them.elves what other men think of them, and that
other men would fain be as they are, then they are
happy as it were by report, when perhaps they find
the contrary within. For they are the first that find
their own griefs : though they be the last that find
their own faults. Certainly men in great fortunes are
strangers to themselves, and while they are in the
puzzle of business, they have no time to tend their
health either of body or mind. //// mors gravis in-
cubat, qui not us minis omnibus, ignotus moritur sibi.
In place there is licence to do good and evil; whereof
the latter is a curse ; for in evil the best condition is
not to will : the second not to can. But power to do
good is the true and lawful end of aspiring. For
good thoughts, though God accept them, yet to-
wards men are little better than good dreams, except
they be put in act ; and that cannot be without power
and place ; as the vantage and commanding ground.
Merit and good works is the end of man's motion ;
and conscience of the same is the accomplishment of
man's rest. For if a man can be partaker of God's
theatre, he shall likewise be partaker of God's rest.'
Et conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera, qua fecerunt
manus sute, vidit quod omnia essent bona nimis ; and
then the sabbath. In the discharge of thy place, set
before theethe best examples; for imitation is a globe
of precepts. And after a time set before thee thine
own example ; and examine thyself strictly, whether
thou didst not best at first. Neglect not also the
examples of those, that have carried themselves ill in
the same place: not to set off thyself by taxing their
memory ;. but to direct thyself what to avoid. Reform
therefore, without bravery or scandal of former times
and persons ; but yet set it down to thy self,, as, we 11 to
create good precedents, as to follow them. Reduce
things to the first institution, and observe wherein and
how they have degenerated; but yet ask counsel of
both times: of the ancient time what is best; and of

, Civil and Moral. 277

the latter time what is fittest. Seek to make thy
course regular; that men may know beforehand what
they may expect : but be not too positive and peremp-
tory ; and express thyself well when thou digressest
from thy rule. Preserve the right of thy place, but
stir not questions of jurisdiction: and rather assume
thy right in silence, and de facto, than voice it with
claims and challenges. Preserve likewise the rights
of inferior places; and think it more honour to direct
in chief, than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite
helps and advices touching the execution of thy place;
and do not drive away such as bring thee information*
as medicrs, but accept of them in good part. The
vices of authority are chieiiy fqur; delays, corruption,
roughness, and facility. For delays; give easy ac-
cess; keep times appointed; go through with that
which is in hand ; and interlace not business but of ne-
cessity. For corruption ; do not only bind thine own
hands, or thy servants hands, from taking, but bind the
hands of suitors also from offering. For integrity
used doth the one; but integrity professed, and with a
manifest detestation of bribery, doth the other: and
avoid not only the fault, but the suspicion. Whoso-
ever is found variable, and changeth manifestly with-
out manifest cause, giveth suspicion of corruption.
Therefore always when thou changest thine opinion
or course, profess it plainly, and declare it, together
with the reasons that move thee to change: and do
not think to steal it. A servant or a favorite, if he be
inward, and no other apparent cause of esteem, is com-
monly thought but a bye-way to close corruption. For
roughness, it is a needless cause of discontent ; seve-
rity breedeth fear, but roughness breedeth hate.
Even reproofs from authority ought to be grave, and
not taunting. As for facility, it is worse than bribery.
For bribes come but now and then i but if importu-
nity or idle respects lead a man, he shall never be
without. As Solomon saith ; to respect persons is not
good ;for such a man zvill transgress for a piece of bread.
It is most true what was anciently spoken, A place
sheweth the man: and it shevveth some to the better,

278 Essays, Civil and Moral.

and some to the worse ; omnium consensu, capax impe-
ril, nisi imperasset, saith Tacitus of Galba : but of
Vespasian he saith ; solus imperantium Vespasianus
mutatus in mclitts. Though the one was meant of suf-
ficiency, the other of manners and affection. It is an
assured sign of a worthy and generous spirit, whom
honour amends. For honour is or should be the place
of virtue: and as in nature things move violently to
their place, and calmly in their place ; so virtue in
ambition is violent, in authority settled and calm. All
rising to great place is by a winding-stair; and if there
be factions, it is good to side a man's self whilst he is in
the rising ; and to balance himself when he is placed.
Use the memory of thy predecessor fairly and tenderly ;
for if thou dost not, it is a debt will surely be paid
when thou art gone. If thou have colleagues, respect
them, and rather call them when they look not for it,
than exclude them when they have reason to look to
be called. Be not too sensible, or too remembering of
thy place in conversation, and private answers to
suitors ; but let it rather be said, When he sits in place?
he is another man.

XII. Of BOLDNESS.

IT is a trivial grammar-school text, but yet worthy
a wise man's consideration. Question was asked of
Demosthenes, what was the chief part of an orator?
He answered, Action. What next ? — Action. What
next again ? — Action. He said it that knew it best ;
and had by naitire himself no advantage in that he
commended. A strange thing, that that part of an
orator, which is but superficial, and rather the virtue
of a player, should be placed so high above those
other noble parts of invention, elocution, and the
rest : nay almost alone, as if it were all in all. But the
reason is plain. There is in human nature generally,
more of the fool than of the wise; and therefore those
faculties by which the foolish part of mens minds is
taken, are most potent. Wonderful like is the case of
boldness in civil business; what first? — Boldness.
What second and third ? — Boldness. And yet bold^

Essays, Civil and Moral. 279

ness is a child of ignorance and baseness, far infe
rior to other parts. But nevertheless it doth fas-
cinate, and bind hand and foot those that are either
shallow in judgment or weak in courage, which are
the greatest part ; yea, and prevaileth with wise men
at weak times : therefore we see it hath done won-
ders in popular states, but with senates and princes
less ; and more ever upon the first entrance of bold
persons into action, than soon after; for boldness is
an ill keeper of promise. Surely, as there are
mountebanks for the natural body, so there are
mountebanks for the politic body : men that under-
take great cures, and perhaps have been lucky in two
or three experiments, but want the grounds of science,
and therefore cannot hold out : nay, you shall see a
bold fellow many times do Mahomet's miracle. Ma-
homet made the people believe that he would call an
hill to him, and from the top of it offer up his prayers
for the observers of his law. The people assembled :
Mahomet called the hill to come to him again and
again ; and when the hill stood still he was never a
wit abashed, but said, " If the hill will not come to
Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the hill.'* So these
men, when they have promised great matters, and
failed most shamefully, yet, if they have the perfection '
of boldness, they will but slight it over, and make a
turn, and no more ado. Certainly to men of great
judgment bold persons are a sport to behold ; nay,
and to the vulgar also boldness hath somewhat of the
ridiculous: for if absurdity be the subject of laughter,
doubt you not but great boldness is seldom without
some absurdity : especially it is a sport to see when a
bold fellow is out of countenance, for that puts his
face into a most shrunken and wooden posture, as
needs it must; for in bashfulness the spirits do a lit-
tle go and come ; but with bold men, upon like occa-
sion, they stand at a stay; like a stale at chess, where
it is no mate, but yet the game cannot stir: but this
last were fitter for a satire, than for a serious observa-
tion. This is well to be weighed, that boldness is
ever blind ; for it seeth not dangers and inconve-

280 Essays, Civil and Moral.

niences : therefore it is ill in counsel, good in ex-
ecution : so that the right use of bold persons is, that
they never command in chief, but be seconds, and
under the direction of others. For in counsel, it is
good to see dangers; and in execution not to see
them, except they be very great.

XIII. Of GOODNESS and GOODNESS OF NATURE.

I TAKE goodness in this sense, the affecting of
the weal of men, which is what the Grecians called
philanthropia -, and the word humanity, as it is used,
is a little too light to express it. Goodness I call the
habit, and goodness of nature the inclination. This
of all virtues and dignities of the mind is the greatest,
being the character of the Deity ; and without it,
man is a busy, mischievous, wretched thing, no bet-
ter than a kind of vermin. Goodness answers to the
theological virtue charity, and admits no e.xcess but
error. The desire of power in excess caused the an-
gels to fall ; the desire of knowledge in excess caused
man to fall : but in charity there is no excess ; neither
can angel or man come in danger by it. The incli-
nation to goodness is imprinted deeply in the nature of
man; insomuch, that if it issue not towards men, it
will take unto other living creatures ; as it is seen in
the Turks, a cruel people, w7ho nevertheless are kind
to beasts, and give alms to dogs and birds: insomuch,
as Busbechius reporteth, a Christian boy in Constanti-
nople had like to have been stoned, for gagging, in a
waggishness, a long-billed fowl. Errors indeed in
this virtue of goodness or charity maybe committed.
The Italians have an ungracious proverb ; .Tan to buon
(he rat nicntc ; So good that he is good for nothing.
And one of the doctors of Italy, Nicholas Machiavel,
had the confidence to put in writing, almost in plain
terms, that the Christian faith had given up good men
in prey to those that are tyrannical and unjust : which
he spake, because indeed there was never law, or
>ect, or opinion, did so much magnify goodness, as
the Christian religion doth : theretore to avoid the
scaudaJ, and the clanger both, it is good to take know-

Essays, Civil and Moral. 281

ledge of the errors of an habit so excellent. Seek the
good of other men, but be not in bondage to their
Faces or fancies ; for that is but facility or softness,
which taketh an honest mind prisoner. Neither give
thou ^Esop's cock a gem, who would be better
pleased, and happier if he had a barley-corn. The ex-
ample of God teacheth the lesson truly ; he sendeth his
rain, andmaketh his sun to shine upon the just and the
unjust ; but he doth not rain wealth, nor shine honour
and virtues upon men equally : common benefits are
to be communicated with all, but peculiar benefits
with choice. And beware, how in making the por-
traiture thou breakest the pattern ; for divinity mak-
eth the love of ourselves the pattern, the love of our
neighbours but the portraiture: Sell all thou hast and
give it to the poor, and follow me. But sell not all thou
hast, except thou come and follow me ; that is, ex-
cept thou have a vocation, wherein thou mayest do as
much good with little means as with great : for other-
wise, in feeding the streams thou driest the fountain.
Neither is there only a habit of goodness directed by
right reason ; but there is in some men, even in na-
ture, a disposition towards it; as on the other side
there is a natural malignity. For there be, that in
their nature do not affect the good of others. The
lighter sort of malignity turneth but to a crossness, or
frowardness, or aptness to oppose, or difficilness, or
the like; but the deeper sort to envy, and mere mis-
chief. Such men, in other mens calamities, are as it
were in season, and are ever on the loading part; not
so good as the dogs that licked Lazarus' sores, but
like flies that are still buzzing upon any thing that is
raw ; Misanthropy that make it their practice to bring
men to the bough, and yet have never a tree for the
purpose in their gardens, as Timon had. Such dispo-
sitions are the very errors of human nature, and yet
they are the fittest timber to make *great politics of;
like to knee-timber, that is good for ships that are
ordained to be tossed, but not for building houses that
shall stand firm. The parts and signs of goodness are
many. If a man be gracious and courteous to stran-

Essays, Civil and Moral

gers, it shews he is a citizen of the world, and that his
heart is no island cut off from other lands, but a con-
tinent that joins to them. If he be compassionate to-
wards the afflictions of others, it shews that his heart
is like the noble tree that is wounded itself when it
gives the balm. If he easily pardons and remits of-
fences, it shews that his mind is planted above inju-
ries, so that he cannot be shot. If he be thankful
for small benefits, it shews that he weighs mens minds,
and not their trash. But above all, if he have St.
Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be an anathe-
ma from Christ for the salvation of his brethren, it
shews much of a divine nature, and a kind of confor^
mity with Christ himself.

XIV. Of NOBILITY.

WE will speak of nobility first as a portion of an
estate, then as a condition of particular persons. A mo*
narchy, where there is no nobility at all, is ever a pure
and absolute tyranny; as that of the Turks: for nobi-
lity attempers sovereignty, and draws the eyes of the
people somewhat aside from the line royal, But for
democracies they need not ; and they are commonly
more quiet, and less subject to sedition, than where
there are stirps of nobles; for mens eyes are upon the
business, and not upon the persons: or if upon the
persons, it is for the business sake, as fittest, and not
for flags and pedigree. We see the Switzers last well,
notwithstanding their diversity of religion, and of can-
tons : for utility is their bond, and not respects. The
United Provinces of the Low Countries, in their go-
vernment excel : for where there is an equality, the
consultations are more indifferent, and the payments
and tributes more cheerful. A great and potent no-
bility addeth majesty to a monarch, but diminisheth
power; and putteth life and spirit into the people,
but presseth their fortune. It is well when nobles are
not too great for sovereignty, nor for justice; and yet
maintain in that height, as the insolency of inferiors
may be broken upon them, before it come on too fast
upon the majesty of kings. A numerous nobility

Essays, Civil and Moral. 283

causeth poverty and inconvenience in a state, for it Is
a surcharge of expence; and besides, it being of ne-
cessity that many of the nobility fall in time to be
weak in fortune, it maketh a kind of disproportion
between honour and means.

As for nobility in particular persons: it is a reve-
rend thing to see an ancient castle. or building not in
decay; or to see a fair timber-tree sound and perfect;
how much more to behold an ancient noble family,
which hath stood against the waves and weathers of
time ? for new nobility is but the act of power, but
ancient nobility is the act of time. Those that are first
raised to nobility, are commonly more virtuous, but
Jess innocent, than their descendants; for there is
rarely any rising, but by a commixture of good and
evil arts : but it is reason the memory of their virtues
remain to their posterity, and their faults die with
themselves. Nobility of birth commonly abateth in-
dustry; and he that is not industrious envieth him
that is. Besides, noble persons cannot go much higher ;
and he that standeth at a stay when others rise, can
hardly avoid motions of envy. On the other side,
nobility extinguished the passive envy from others
towards them, because they are in possession of ho-
nour. Certainly kings that have able men of their no-
bility, shall find ease in employing them, and a better
slide into their business : for people naturally bend to
them, as born in some sort to command.

XV. Of SEDITIONS and TROUBLES.

SHEPHERDS of people had need know the ka-
lendars of tempests in state: which are commonly
greatest when things grow to equality ; as natural
tempests are greatest about the aquinoctia. And as
there are certain hollow blasts of wind, and secret
swellings of seas, before a tempest, so are there in
states :

Ilk etiam c<ecos ins fare tumult us
&&p& monettfraudesque et operta tumcscere bella.

Libels and licentious discourses against the state,
when they are frequent and open, and in like sort

Essays, Civil and Moral.

false news often running up and down to the disadvan-
tage of the state, and hastily embraced, are amongst
the signs of troubles. Virgil giving the pedigree of
Fame, saith, she was sister to the giants.
I limn Terra parent , Ira irritata Dtorumy
Ejctrcmam, ut perhibent, CEO Encdadoque sororem
Pro^cmuL

As if fames were the relicks of seditions past: but
they are no less indeed the preludes of seditions to
come. Howsoever he noteth it right, that seditious
tumults and seditious fames, differ no more, but as
brother and sister, masculine and feminine; especi-
ally if it come ro that, that the best actions of a state,
and the most plausible, and which ought to give
greatest contentment, are taken in ill sense and tra-
duced : for that shews the envy great, as Tacitus
saith*; couflata magna invidia, sen bene, seu male, gesta
premunt. Neither doth it follow, that because these
fames are a sign of troubles, that the suppressing of
them with too much seventy should be a remedy of
troubles. For the despising of them many times
checks them best: and the going about to stop them,
doth but make a wonder long-lived. Also that kind
of obedience which Tacitus bpeaketh of, is to be held
suspected; Erant inofficio, scd tamen qui mallent man-
data imperantiiim interpretari, quamexequi, disputing,
excusing, cavilling upon mandates and directions, is
a kind of shaking off the yoke, and assay of disobedi-
ence : especially if in those disputings they which are
for the direction, speak fearfully and tenderly ; and
those that are against it, audaciously.

Also, as Machiavel noteth well, when princes,
that ought to be common parents, make themselves
as a party, and lean to a side, it is as a boat that is
overthrown by uneven weight on the one side : as was
well seen in the time of Henry the third of France ;
for first, himself entered league for the extirpation of
the protestants; and presently after the same league
was turned upon himself. For when the authority of
princes is made but an accessary to a cause, and that
there be other bands, that tie faster than the band of

Essays, Civil and Moral. 285-

sovereignty, kings begin to be put almost out of pos-
session.

Also, when discords, and quarrels, and factions,
are carried openly and audaciously, it is a sign the
reverence of government is lost. For the motions of
the greatest persons in a government ought to be as
the motions of the planets under primum mobile, ac-
cording to the old opinion ; which is, that every one
of them is carried swiftly by the highest motion, and
softly in their own motion. And therefore when
great ones in their own particular motion move vio-
lently, and, as Tacitus expresseth it well, tiberius,
quam ut imperantium meminissent; it is a sign the orbs
are out of frame. For reverence is that wherewith
princes are girt from God, who threatened! the dis*
solving thereof; solvam cingula regum.

So when any of the four pillars of government are
mainly shaken or weakened, which are religion, jus-
tice, counsel, and treasure, men had need to pray for
fair weather. But let us pass from this part of predic-
tions, concerning which, nevertheless, more light
may be taken from that which followeth, and let us
speak first of the materials of seditions; then of the
motives of them; and thirdly of the remedies.

Concerning the materials of seditions. It is a thing
well to be considered ; for the surest way to prevent
seditions, if the times do bear it, is to take away the
matter of them. For if there be fuel prepared, it is
hard to tell whence the spark shall come that shall set
it on fire. The matter of seditions is of two kinds :
much poverty, and much discontentment. It is cer-
tain, so many overthrown estates, so many votes for
troubles. Lucan noteth well the state of Rome bo
fore the civil war :

Hinc usura vorax, rapldumque in tempore fxnus,

Hinc concussafdcs, ct multis utilc bdlum.
This same multis utilc bdlum is an assured and infalli-
ble sign of a state disposed to seditions and troubles.
And if this poverty and broken estate iri the better
sort be joined with a want and necessity In the mean
people, the danger is imminent and great. For the

286 Essays, Civil and Moral.

rebellions of the belly are the worst. As for discon-
tentments, they are in the politic body like to hu-
mours in the natural, which are apt to gather a pre-
ternatural heat, and to inflame. And let no prince
measure the danger of them by this ; whether they
be just, or unjust; for that were to imagine people to
b^ too reasonable ; who do often spurn at their own
good : nor yet by this ; whether the griefs whereupon
they rise be in fact great or small. For they are the
most dangerous discontentments, where the fear is
greater than the feeling. Dolendi ?nodus, timendinon
item. Besides, in great oppressions, the same things
that provoke the patience, do withal mate the cou-
rage ; but in fears it is not so. Neither let any prince
or state be secure concerning discontentments, because
they have been often, or have been long, and yet no
peril hath ensued ; for as it is true that every vapour
or fume, doth not turn into a storm ; so it is never-
theless true, that storms, though they blow over divers
times, yet may fall at last; and as the Spanish pro-
verb noteth well, the cord breaketh at the last by the
weakest pull.

The causes and motives of seditions are, innovation
in religion, taxes, alteration of laws and customs,
breaking of privileges, general oppression, advance-
ment of unworthy persons', strangers, dearths, dis-
banded soldiers, factions grown desperate ; and what-
soever in offending people joineth and knitteth them
in a common cause.

For the remedies, there may be some general pre-
servatives, whereof we will speak ; as for the just
cure, it must answer to the particular disease ; and so
be left to counsel, rather than rule.

The first remedy or prevention, is. to remove by all
means possible that material cause of sedition, where-
of we spake ; which is want and poverty in the estate.
To which purpose serveth the opening and well ba-
lancing of trade; the cherishing of manufactures; the
banishing of idleness ; the repressing of waste and ex-
cess by sumptuary laws : the improvement and hus-
banding oftheso'il; the regulating of prices of things

Essays, Civil and Moral.

vendable; the moderating of taxes and tributes, and
the like. Generally it is to be foreseen, that the po-
pulation of a kingdom, especially if it be not mown
down by wars, do not exceed the stock of the king-
dom, which should maintain them. Neither is the
population to be reckoned only by number : for a
smaller number, that spend more, and earn less, do
wear out an estate sooner than a greater number that
live lower and gather more. Therefore the multiplying
of nobility, and other degrees of quality, in an over-
proportion to the common people, doth speedily bring
a state to necessity : and so doth likewise an over-
grown clergy ; for they bring nothing to the stock :
and in like manner, when more are bred scholars,
than preferments can take off.

It is likewise to be remembered, that forasmuch as
the increase of any estate must be Upon the foreigner,
for whatsoever is somewhere gotten is somewhere
lost, there be but three things which one nation
selleth unto another ; the commodity as nature yield-
eth it ; the manufacture ; and the vecture or carnage.
So that if these three wheels go, wealth will flow as
in a spring tide. And it cometh many times to pass,
that mater iam super abit opus, that the work and car-
riage is more worth than the material, and enricheth
a state more ; as is notably seen in the Low-Country-
men, who have the best mines above ground in the
world.

Above all things good policy is to be used, that the
treasure and moneys in a state be not gathered into
few hands. For otherwise a state may have a great
stock, and yet starve. And money is like muck, not
good except it be spread. This is done chiefly by sup-
pressing, or at the least keeping a strait hand upon
the devouring trades of usury, ingrossing, great pas-
turages, and the like.

For removing discontentments, or at least the dan*
gerofthem: there is in every state, as we know, two
portions of subjects, the noblesse, and the commonalty.
When one of these is discontent, the danger is not
great ; for common people are of slow motion, if they

238 Essays, Civil and Moral.

be not excited by the greater sort ; and the greater
sort are of small strength, except the multitude be apt
and ready to move of themselves. Then is the danger,
when the greater sort do but wait for the troublingof
the waters amongst the meaner, that then they may
declare themselves. The poets feign, that the rest of
the Gods would have bound Jupiter; which he hear-
ing of, by the counsel of Pallas, sent for Briareus with
his hundred hands to come in to his aid. An emblem,
no doubt, to shew, how safe it is for monarchs to make
sure of the good will of common people.

To give moderate liberty for griefs and discontent-
ments to evaporate, so it be without too great inso-
Jency.or bravery, is a safe way. For he that turneth the
humours back, and maketh the wound bleed inwards,
endangereth malign ulcers, and pernicious imposthu-
mations.

The part of Epimetheus might well become Pro-
metheus, in the case of discontentments, for there is
not a better provision against them. Epimetheus,
when griefs and evils flew abroad, at last shut the lid
and kept Hope in the bottom of the vessel. Certainly
the politic and artificial nourishing and entertaining
of hopes, and carrying men from hopes to hopes, is
one of the best antidotes against the poison of discon-
tentments. And it is a certain sign of a wise govern-
ment and proceeding, when it can hold men's hearts
by hopes, when it cannot by satisfaction : and when
it can handle things in such manner, as no evil shall
appear so peremptory, Hut that it hath some outlet of
hope ; which is the less hard to do, because both par-
ticular persons and factions are apt enough to flatter
themselves, or at least to brave that which they be-
lieve not.

Also, the foresight and prevention that there be no
likely or fit head, whereunto discontented persons may
resort, and under whom they may join, is a known
but an excellent point of caution. I understand a fit
head to be one that hath greatness and reputation;
that hath confidence with the discontented party, and
upon whom they turn their eyes ; and that is thought

EsSay Sy Civil and Moral. 289

discontented in bis own particular : which kind of
persons are either to be won and reconciled to the
state, and that in a fast and true manner : or to be
coii fronted with some other of the same party that
may oppose them, and so divide the reputation. Ge-
nerally, the dividing and breaking of all factions and
combinations that are adverse -to the state, and setting
them at distance, or at least distrust amongst them-
selves, is not one of the worst remedies. For it is a
desperate case, if those that hold with the proceed-
ing of the state, be full of discord and faction; and
those that are against it be entire and united.

I have noted, that some witty and sharp speeches
which have fallen from princes, have given fire to se-
ditions. Cicsar did himself infinite hurt in thatspeech;
Sylla nescivit liter as, non potuit die tare : for it did ut-
terly cut off that hope which men had entertained,
that he would at one time or other give over his dic-
tatorship. Galba undid himself by that speech; -Legi
a se milifcm, non cmi : for it put the soldiers out of
hope of the donative. Probus likewise by that speech^
Si vixcroy non opus erit amplius Romano imperio mili*
tibus ; a speech of great despair for the soldiers : and
many the like. Surely princes had need, in tender
matters and ticklish times, to beware what they say;
especially in these short speeches, which fly abroad
like darts, and are thought to be shot out of their
secret intentions. For* as for large discourses, they
are flat things, and not so much noted.

Lastly, let princes, against all events, not be with-
out some great person, one, or rather more, of mili-
tary valour near unto them, for the repressing of se-
ditions in their beginnings. For" without that, there
useth to be more trepidation in court upon the first
breaking out of troubles, than were fit. And the
state runneth the danger of that which Tacitus saith,
atque is habitus animorum fitit, ut pessimiun f acinus
auderent paitci, plures vellent, omnes patcrentur. But
let such military persons be assured and well reputed
of, rather than factious and popular; holding also
good correspondence with the other great men in

VOL. n. u

29O Essays, Civil and Moral.

the state; or else the remedy is worse than the
disease.

XVI. Of ATHEISM.

I HAD rather believe all the fables in the Legend,
and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that this
universal frame is without a mind. And therefore
God never wrought miracle to convince atheism, be-
cause his ordinary works convince it. It is true, that
a little philosophy inclineth man's mind to atheism ;
but depth in philosophy bringeth mens' minds about
to religion : for while the mind of man looketh upon
second causes scattered, it may sometimes rest in
them, and go no farther ; but when it beholdeth the
chain of them confederate and linked together, it must
needs fly to Providence and Deity. Nay even that school
which is most accused of atheism, doth most demon-
strate religion; that is the school of Leucippus, and
Democritus, and Epicurus. For it is a thousand
times more credible, that four mutual elements, and
one immutable fifth essence duly and eternally placed,
need no God ; than that an army of infinite small por-
tions, or seeds unplaced, should have produced this
order and beauty without a divine marshal. The
Scripture saith, The fool hath said in his heart, There
is no God: it is not said, the fool hath thought in his
heart. So as he rather saith it by rote to himself, as
that he would have, than that he can thoroughly be-
lieve it, or be persuaded of it. For none deny
there is a God, but those for whom it maketh that
there were no God. It appeareth in nothing more,
that atheism is rather in the lip than in the heart of
man, than by this ; that atheists will ever be talking
of that their opinion, as if they fainted in it within
themselves, and would be glad to be strengthened by
the consent of others: nay more, you shall have athe-
ists strive to get disciples, as it fareth with other sects:
and, which is most of all, you shall have of them that
will suffer for atheism, and not recant ; whereas if they
did truly think that there were no such thing as God,
why should they trouble themselves ? Epicurus is

Essays, Civil and Moral. 29 1

charged, that he did but dissemble, for his credit's
sake, when he affirmed there were blessed natures,
but such as enjoyed themselves without having re-
spect to the government of the world. Wherein they
say he did temporize, though in secret he thought
there was no God. But certainly he is traduced ; for
his words are noble and divine : Non deos vulgi ne-
gare prof (mum ; sed vulgi opiniones diis applicare pro-
famim. Plato could have said no more. And al-
though he had the confidence to deny the adminis-
tration, he had not the power to deny the nature. The
Indians of the west have names for their particular
gods, though they have no name for God : as if the
heathens should have had the names Jupiter, Apollo,
Mars, etc. but not the word Deus : which shews, that
even those barbarous people have the notion, though
they have not the latitude and extent of it. So that
against atheists the very savages take part with the very
subtilest philosophers. The comtemplative atheist is
rare; a Diagoras, a Bion, a Luciarf perhaps, and some
others : and yet they seem to be more than they are ;
for that all that impugn a received religion or super-
stition, are by the adverse part branded with the name
of atheists. But the great atheists indeed are hypo-
crites; which are ever handling holy things, but
without feeling ; so as they must needs be cauterized
in the end. The causes of atheism are ; divisions in
religion, if they be many ; for any one main division
addeth zeal to both sides ; but many divisions intro-
duce atheism. Another is, scandal of priests ; when
it is come to that which S. Bernard saith, non est jam
dicere, ut populus, sic sacerdos : quia nee sic populus,
ut sacerdos. A third is, custom of profane scoffing in
holy matters; which doth by little and little deface
the reverence of religion. And lastly, learned times,
especially with peace and prosperity: for troubles and
adversities do more bow mens minds to religion. They
that deny a God, destroy man's nobility : for certainly
man is of kin to the beasts by his body ; and if he be
not of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and ig-
noble creature. It destroys likewise magnanimity,

u 2

.-••

292 Essays, Civil and Moral.

and the raising of human natnre : for take an example
of a dog, and mark what a generosity and courage
he will put on, when he finds himself maintained
by a man ; who to him is instead of a God, or melior
natura : which courage is manifestly such, as that
creature, without that confidence of a better nature
than his own, could never attain. So man, when he
resteth and assureth himself upon divine protection
and favour, gathereth a force and faith, which human
nature in itself could not obtain: therefore as athe-
ism is in all respects hateful^ so in this, that it depriv-
eth human nature of the means to exalt itself above
human frailty. As it is in particular persons, so it is
in nations : never was there such a state for magnani-
mity as Rome ; of this state hear what Cicero saith :
Quam volumus, licet, patrcs conscripti, nos amemus, ta-
mtn nee ninnero Hispanos, nee robore Gallos, nee calli-
ditate Pccnos, nee artibus Gr<ecos9 nee denique hoc ipso
hiijus gentis et terra domeslico nativoque sensu I tales
ipsos et Latinos ; sed pietate, ac religione, atque hac una
sapientia, quod deorum iinmortallum numhie omnia regi
gubernarique perspeximus, omnes gentes nationesque su-
peravimus.

XVII. Of SUPERSTITION.

IT were better to have no opinion of God at all,
than such an opinion as is unworthy of him : for the
one is unbelief, the other is contumely : and cer-
tainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity, Plu-
tarch saith well to that purpose : " Surely," saith he,
" I had rather a great deal men should say, there was
" no such man at all as Plutarch, than that they
" should say, that there was one Plutarch, that would
" eat his children as soon as they were born ; as the
" poets speak of Saturn." And as the contumely is
greater towards God, so the danger is greater towards
men. Atheism leaves a man to sense, to philosophy,
to natural piety, to laws, to reputation ; all which
may be guides to an outward moral virtue, though re-
ligion were not: but superstition dismounts all these,
and erecteth an absolute monarchy in the minds of.

Essays, Civil and Moral. 293

men. Therefore atheism did never perturb states ; for it
makes men wary of themselves, as looking no farther:
and we see the times inclined to atheism, as the time
of Augustus Caesar, were civil times. But supersti-
tion hath been the confusion of many states ; and
bringeth in a new primum mobile^ that ravisheth all
the spheres of government. The master of superstition
is the people ; an<l in all superstition wise men follow
fools; and arguments are fitted to practice, in a re-
versed order. It was gravely said by some of the pre-
lates in the Council of Trent, where the doctrine of the
school-men bare great sway ; that the schoolmen were
like astronomers, which did feign eccentrics and epicy-
cles, and such engines of orbs, to save the phenomena,
though they knew there were no such things; and in
like manner, that the schoolmen had framed a number
of subtile and intricate axioms and theorems, to save
the practice of the church. The causes of superstition
are : pleasing and sensual rites and ceremonies : excess
of outward and pharisaical holiness: over-great reve-
rence of traditions, which cannot but load the church:
the stratagems of prelates for their own ambition and
lucre: the favouring too much of good intentions,
which openeth the gate to conceits and novelties: the
taking an aim at divine matters by human, which can- ,
not but breed mixture of imaginations: and lastly,
barbarous times, especially joined with calamities and
disasters. Superstition without a veil is a deformed
thing : for as it addeth deformity to an ape to be so
like a man ; so the similitude of superstition to reli-
gion makes it the more deformed. And as whole-
some meat corrupteth to little worms; so good forms
and orders corrupt into a number of petty observances.
There is a superstition in avoiding superstition ; when
men think to do best, if they go farthest from the su-
perstition formerly received : therefore care should be
had, that, as it fareth in ill purgings, the good be not
taken away with the bad, which commonly is done
when the people is the reformer.

294* Essays, Civil and Moral.

XVIII. Of TRAVEL.

TRAVEL in the younger sort is a part of educa-
tion ; in the elder a part or experience. He that tra-
velleth into a country before he hath some entrance
into the language, goeth to school, and not to travel.
That young men travel under some tutor or grave ser-
vant, I allow well ; so that he be such a one that hath
the language, and hath been in the country before ;
whereby he may be able to tell them what things
are worthy to be seen in the country where they go,
what acquaintances they are to seek, what exercises
or discipline the place yieldeth. For else young men
shall go hooded, and look abroad little. It is a strange
thing, that in sea-voyages, where there is nothing to be
seen but sky and sea, men should make diaries; but
in land-travel, wherein so much is to be observed, for
the most part they omit it; as if chance were fitter to
be registered than observation. Let diaries therefore
be brought in use. The things to be seen and observed
are :* the courts of princes, especially when they give
audience to ambassadors: the courts of justice, while
they sit and hear causes : and so of consistories eccle-
siastic: the churches and monasteries, with the monu-
ments which are therein extant : the walls and fortifi-
cations of cities and towns, and so the havens and har-
bours: antiquities and ruins; libraries, colleges, dis-
putations, and lectures, where any are ; shipping and
navies; houses, and gardens of state and pleasure
near great cities; armories, arsenals, magazines, ex-
changes, burses, warehouses; exercises of horseman-
ship, fencing, training of soldiers, and the like ; co-
medies, such whereunto the better sort of persons do
resort; treasuries of jewels and robes, cabinets and
rarities : and to conclude, whatsoever is memorable
in the places where they go. After all which, the
tutors or servants ought to make diligent inquiry. As
for triumphs, masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, capital
executions, and such shews, men need not to be put in
mind of them; yet they are not to be neglected. If
you will have a young man to put his travel into a
little room, and in short time to gather much, this you

Essays, Civil and Moral. 295

must do : first, as was said, he must have some entrance
into the language before he goeth. Then he must
have such a servant, or tutor, as knovveth the country,
as was likewise said. Let him carry with him also
some card or book describing the country where he
travelleth, which will be a good key to his inquiry.
Let him keep also a diary. Let him not stay long in
one city or town; more or less as the place de-
serveth, but not long: nay, when he stayeth in one
city or town, let him change his lodging from one end
and part of the town to another, which is a great
adamant of acquaintance. Let him sequester himself
from the company of his countrymen, and diet in such
places where there is good company of the nation
where he travelleth. Let him, upon his removes
from one place to another, procure recommendation
to some person of quality residing in the place whither
he removeth ; that he may use his favour in those
things he desireth to see or know. Thus he may
abridge his travel with much profit. As for the ac-
quaintance which is to be sought in travel, that which
is mOi»t of all profitable, is acquaintance with the se-
cretaries and employed men of ambassadors; for so in
travelling in one country, he shall suck the experi-
ence of many. Let him also see and visit eminent
persons in all kinds, which are of great name abroad ;
that he may be able to tell how the life agreeth with
the fame. For quarrels, they are with care and dis-
cretion to be avoided: they are commonly for mis-
tresses, healths, place, and words. And let a man
beware how he keepeth company with choleric and
quarrelsome persons; for they will engage him into
their own quarrels. When a traveller returneth home,
let him not leave the countries where he hath travelled
altogether behind him; but maintain a correspon-
dence by letters with those of his acquaintance which
are of most worth. And let his travel appear rather
in his discourse than in his apparel or gesture ; and in
his discourse, let him be rather advised in his answers
than forward to tell stories: and let it appear that he
doth not change his country manners for those of

296 Essays, Civil and Moral.

foreign parts; but only prick in some flowers of that
he hath learned abroad, into the customs of his own
Country,

XIX. Of EMPIRE.

IT is a miserable state of mind to have few things
to desire, and many things to fear: and yet that com-
monly is the case of kings, who being at the highest,
want matter of desire, which makes their minds more
languishing: and have many representations of perils
and shadows, which make their minds the less clear.
And this is one reason also of that effect which the
Scripture speaketh of, that the king's heart is inscrutable.
For multitude of jealousies, and lack of some predo-
minant desire, that should marshal and put in order all
the rest, maketh any man's heart hard to find or
sound. Hence it comes likewise, that princes many
times make themselves desires, and set their hearts
upon toys; sometimes upon a building; sometimes
upon erecting of an order; sometimes upon the ad-
vancing of a person ; sometimes upon obtaining ex-
cellency in some art or feat of the hand ; as Nero for
playing on the harp; Domitian for certainty of the
hand with the arrow, Commodus for playing at fence;
Caracalla for driving chariots; and the like. This
seemeth incredible unto those that know not the prin-
ciple, That the mind of man is more cheered and rer
freshed by profiting in small things, than by standing
at a stay in great. We see also, that kings that have
been fortunate conquerors in their first years, it
being not possible for them to go forward infinitely,
but that they must have some check or arrest in their
fortunes, turn in their latter years to be superstitious
and melancholy: as did Alexander the Great, Dio-
clesian, and in our memory Charles the Fifth, and
others; for he that is used to go 'forward, and findeth a
stop, falleth out of his own favour, and is not the
thing he was.

To speak now of the true temper of empire : it is a
thing rare and hard to keep ; for both temper and dis-
temper consist of contraries. But it is one thing tq

Essays, Civil and Moral. 297

mingle Contraries, another to interchange them. The
answer of Apollonius to Vespasian is full of excellent
instruction : Vespasian asked him, what was Nero's
overthrow ? He answered, Nero could touch and
tune the harp well, but in government sometimes he
used to wind the pins too high, sometimes to let them
down too low. And certain it is, that nothing de-
stroyeth authority so much as the unequal and un-
timely interchange of power pressed too tar, and re-
laxed too much.

This is true, that the wisdom of all these latter times
in princes affairs, is rather fine deliveries, and shift-
ings of dangers and mischiefs, when they are near ;
than solid and grounded courses to keep them aloof.
But this is but to try masteries with fortune : and let
men beware, how they neglect and suffer matter of
trouble to be prepared ; for no man can forbid the
spark, nor tell whence it may come. The difficul-
ties in princes business are many and great ; but the
greatest difficulty is often in their own mind. For it
is common with princes, saith Tacitus, to will contra-
dictories. Sunt plerumque regum voluntates vehement€S,
et inter se contraritc. For it is the solecism of power,
to think to command the end, and yet not to endure
the mean.

Kings have to deal with their neighbours; their
wives ; their children; their prelates or clergy; their
nobles ; their second nobles or gentlemen ; their mer-
chants; their commons ; and their men of war; and
from all these arise dangers, if care and circumspec-
tion be not used.

First for their neighbours, there can no general
rule be given, the occasions are so variable, save one,
which ever holdeth ; which is, that princes do keep
due sentinel that none of their neighbours do over-
grow so, by increase of territory, by embracing of
trade, by approaches, or the like, as they become
more able to annoy them, than they were. And this
is generally the work of standing counsels, to foresee
and to hinder it. During that triumvirate ot kings:
Henry the Eighth, of England ; Francis the

Essays, Civil and Moral.

First, king of France ; and Charles the Fifth, em-
peror, there was such a watch kept, that none of the
three could win a palm of ground, but the other two
would straitways balance it, either by confederation,
or if need were by a war : and would not in any wise
take up peace at interest. And the like was done by
that league, which Guicciardine saith, was the secu-
rity of Italy, made between Ferdinando, king of Na-
ples; Lorenzius Medices and Ludovicus Sforza, po-
tentates; the one of Florence, the other of Milan.
Neither is the opinion of some of the schoolmen to be
received, that a war cannot justly be made but upon a
precedent injury, or provocation. For there is no
question but a just fear of an imminent danger, though
there be no blow given, is a lawful cause of a war.

For their wives, there are cruel examples of them.
Livia is infamed for the poisoning of her husband :
Roxolana, Solyman's wife, was the destruction of that
renowned prince, Sultan Mustapha ; and otherwise
troubled his house and succession : Edward the se-
cond of England his queen had the principal hand in
the deposing and murder of her husband. Thi> kind
of danger is then to he feared, chiefly, when the
wives have plots for the raising of their own children,
or else that they be advowtresses.

For their children : the tragedies likewise of the
dangers from them have been many : and generally,
the entering of fathers into suspicion of their children
hath been ever unfortunate The destruction of Mus-
tapha, that we named before, was so tatal to Soiy-
man's line, as the succession of the Turks, from Soly-
man until this day, is suspected to be untrue, and of
strange blood ; for that Selymus the second was
thought to be supposititious. The destruction of
Crispus, a young prince of rare towardness, by Con-
stantinus the Great, his father, was in like manner
fatal to his house ; for both Constantinus and Con-
stance, his sons, died violent deaths; and Constan-
tius his other son did little better ; who died indeed
of sickness, but after that Julianus had taken arms
against him. The destruction of Demetrius, son to

Essays, Civil and Moral. 299

Philip the second of Macedon, turned upon the fa-
ther, who died of repentance. And many like
examples there are ; but few or none where the fa-
thers had good by such distrust, except it were where
the sons were up in open arms against them ; as was
Selymus the first against Bajazet : and the three sons
of Henry the second, king of England.

For their prelates, when they are proud and great,
there is also danger from them: as it was in the
times of Anselmus and Thomas Becket, archbishops
of Canterbury, who with their crosiers did almost
try it with the king's sword; and yet they had to deal
with stout and haughty kings, William Rufus, Henry
the first, and Henry the second. The danger is not
from that state, but where it hath a dependence of
foreign authority ; or where the churchmen come in,
and are elected, not by the collation of the king or
particular patrons, but by the people.

For their nobles ; to keep them at a distance it is
not amiss; but to depress them, may make a king
more absolute, but less safe ; and less able to perform
any thing that he desires : I have noted it in my
History of king Henry the seventh of England, who de-
pressed his nobility ; whereupon it came to pass that
his times were full of difficulties and troubles : for
the nobility, though they continued loyal unto him,
yet did they not co-operate with him in his business.
So that in effect he was fain to do all things himself.

For their second nobles ; there is not much danger
from them, being a body dispersed. They may some-
times discourse high, but that doth little hurt : be-
sides, they are a counterpoise to the higher nobility,
that they grow not too potent : and lastly, being the
most immediate in authority with the common people,
they do best temper popular commotions.

For their merchants, they are vena porta ; and if
they flourish not, a kingdom may have good limbs,
but will have empty veins, and nourish little. Taxes
and imposts upon them do seldom good to the king's
revenue, for that that he wins in the hundred, he
loseth in the shire ; the particular rates being in-

300 Essays, Civil and Moral.

creased, but the total bulk of trading rather de-
creased.

For their commons, there is little danger from them,
except it be where they have great and potent heads ;
or where you meddle with the point of religion, or
their customs or means of life.

For their men of war, it is a dangerous state where
they live and remain in a body, and are used to
donatives, whereof we see examples in the janizaries
and pretorian bands of Rome ; but trainings of
men, and arming them in several places, and under
several commanders, and without donatives, are things
of defence and no danger.

Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which cause
good or evil times ; and which have much veneration,
but no rest. All precepts concerning kings are in
effect comprehended in those two remembrances:
Memento quod es homo; and Memento quod es Deus, or
vice Dei : the one bridleth their power, and the other
their will.

XX. Of COUNSEL.

THE greatest trust between man and man is the
trust of giving counsel. For in other confidences,
men commit the parts of life ; their lands, their goods,
their children, their credit, some particular affair ;
but to such as they make their counsellors, they com-
mit the whole: by how much the more they are
obliged to all faith and integrity. The wisest princes
need not think it any diminution to their greatness, or
derogation to their sufficiency, to rely upon counsel.
God himself is not without: but hath made it one of
the great names of his blessed Son, the counsellor.
Solomon hath pronounced, that in counsel is stability.
Things will have their first or second agitation; if
they be not tossed upon the arguments of counsel,
they will be tossed upon the waves of fortune ; and
be full of inconstancy, doing and undoing, like the
reeling of a drunken man. Solomon's son found the
force of counsel, as his father saw the necessity of it.
For the beloved kingdom of God was first rent and

Essays, Civil and Moral. 301

broken by ill counsel ; upon which counsel there are
set, for our instruction, the two marks whereby bad
counsel is for ever best discerned : that it was young
counsel, for the persons ; and violent counsel, for the
matter.

The ancient times do set forth in figure both the
incorporation and inseparable conjunction of counsel
with kings, and the wise and politic use of counsel
by kings : the one, in that they say Jupiter did many
Metis, which signified! counsel ; whereby they in-
tend, that sovereignty is married to counsel : the
other in that which followed), which was thus: they
say, after Jupiter was married to Metis, she conceived
by him, and was with child, but Jupiter suffered her
not to stay till she brought forth, but eat her up ;
whereby he became himself with child, and was de-
livered of Pallas armed out of his head. Which mon-
strous fable contain eth a secret of empire ; how kings
are to make use of their council of state : that, first,
they ought to refer matters unto them, which is the
first begetting or impregnation ; but when they are
elaborate, moulded and shaped in the womb of their
council, and grow ripe and ready to be brought forth,
that then they suffer not their council to go through
with the resolution and direction, as if it depended on
them ; but take the matter back into their own hands,
and make it appear to the world, that the decrees and
final directions, which, because they come forth with
prudence and power, are resembled to Pallas armed,
proceeded from themselves, and not only from their
authority, but, the more to add reputation to them-
selves, from their head and device.

Let us now speak of the inconveniencies of counsel,
and of the remedies. The inconveniencies that have
been noted in calling and using counsel are three.
First, the revealing of affairs, whereby they become
less secret. Secondly, the weakening of the authority
of princes, as if they were less of themselves. Thirdly,
the danger of being unfaithfully counselled, and more
for the good of them that counsel, than of him that is
counselled. For which inconveniencies the doctrine

302 Essays, Civil and Moral.

of Italy, and practice of France, in some kings times,
hath introduced cabinet councils ; a remedy worse
than the disease.

As to secrecy, princes are not bound to communi-
cate all matters with all counsellors, but may extract
and select. Neither is it necessary, that he that con-
sulteth what he should do, should declare what he
will do. But let princes beware, that the unsecreting
of their affairs comes not from themselves. And as
for cabinet councils, it may be their motto ; Plenus
rimarum sum : one futile person, that maketh it his
glory to tell, will do more hurt than many that know
it their duty to conceal. It is true, there be some
affairs which require extreme secrecy, which will
hardly go beyond one or two persons besides the
king : neither are those counsels unprosperous ; for
besides the secrecy, they commonly go on constantly
in one spirit of direction without distraction. But
then it must be a prudent king, such as is able to

frind with a hand-mill ; and those inward counsellors
ad need also be wise men, and especially true and
trusty to the king's ends ; as it was with king Henry
the seventh of England, who in his greatest business
imparted himself to none, except it were to Morton
and Fox.

For weakening of authority ; the fable sheweth the
remedy. Nay, the majesty of kings is rather exalted
than diminished, when they are in the chair of coun-
cil ; neither was there ever prince bereaved of his de-
pendences by his council, except where there hath
been either an over-greatness in one counsellor, or an
over-strict combination in divers -3 which are things
soon found and holpen.

For the last inconvenience, that men will counsel
with an eye to themselves; certainly Non inveniet
fidem super terram, is meant of the nature of times,
and not of all particular persons. There be that are
in nature faithful and sincere, and plain and direct ;
not crafty and involved : let princes above all draw to
themselves such natures. Besides, counsellors are not
commonly so united, but that one counsellor keepeth

Essays, Civil and Moral. 303

centinel over another ; so that if any do counsel out
of faction or private ends, it commonly comes to the
king's ear. But the best remedy is, if princes know
their counsellors, as well as their counsellors know

Principis est virtus maxima nossc suos.

And on the other side, counsellors should not be too
speculative into their sovereign's person. The true
composition of a counsellor is rather to be skilful in
their master's business, than in his nature ; for then
he is like to advise him, and not to feed his humour.
It is of singular use to princes, if they take the opi-
nions of their council both separately and together :
for private opinion is more free, but opinion before
others is more reverend. In private, men are more
bold in their own humours; and in consort, men are
more obnoxious to others humours ; therefore it is
good to take both : and of the inferior sort, rather in
private, to preserve freedom ; of the greater rather in
consort, to preserve respect. It is in vain for princes
to take counsel concerning matters, if they take no
counsel likewise concerning persons : for all matters
are as dead images; and the life of the execution of
affairs resteth in the good choice of persons. Neither
is it enough to consult concerning persons secundum
genera, as in an idea or mathematical description,
what the kind and character of the person should be;
for the greatest errors are committed, and the most
judgment is shewn in the choice of individuals. It
was truly said, optimi consiliarii mortui; books will
speak plain, when counsellors blanch. Therefore it
is good to be conversant in them, specially the books
of such as themselves have been actors upon the stage.
The councils at this day, in most places, are but
familiar meetings; where matters are rather talked on,
than debated : and they run too swift to the order
or act of council. It were better, that in causes of
weight the matter were propounded one day, and not
spoken to till the next day ; in noctc consilium. So
was it done in the commission of union between
England 3nd Scotland; which was a grave and or*

30-1- Essays, Civil and Moral.

derly assembly. I commend set days for petitions :
for both it gives the suitors more certainty for their
attendance ; and it frees the meetings for matters of
estate, that they may hoc. agere. In choice of com-
mittees, tor ripening business for the council, it is
better to choose indifferent persons, than to make an
indifferency by putting in those that are strong on
both sides. I commend also standing commissions;
as for trade, for treasure, for war, for suits, for some
provinces : tor where there be divers particular coun-
cils, and but one council of estate, as it is in Spain,
they are, in effect, no more than standing commissions;
save that they have greater authority. Let such as are
to inform councils out of their particular professions,
as lawyers, seamen, mint-men, and the like, be first
heard before committees; and then, as occasion
serves, before the council. And let them not come
in multitudes, or in a tribunitious manner; for that is
to clamour councils, not to inform them. A long
table, and a square table, or seats about the walls, seem
things of form, but are things of substance ; for at a
long table, a few at the upper end, in effect, sway all
the business; but in the other form, there is more use
of the counsellors opinions that sit lower. A king
when he presides in council, let him beware how he
opens his owrn inclination too much in that which he
propoundeth : for else counsellors will but take the
wind of him, and instead of giving free counsel sing
him a song of Placebo.

XXI. Of DELAYS.

FORTUNE is like the market, where many times
if you can stay a little, the price will fall. And
again, it is sometimes like Sibylla's offer, which at
first offereth the commodity at full, then consumeth
part and part, and still holdeth up the price. For
occasion, as it is in the common verse, turneth a
bald noddle, after she hath presented her locks in
front, and no hold taken : or at least turneth the
handle of the bottle first to be received ; and after
the belly, which is hard to clasp. There is surely no

Essays, Civil and Moral. 305

greater wisdom, than well to time the beginnings and
onsets of things. Dangers are no more light, if they
unce seem light : and more clangers have deceived
men, than forced them. Nay, it were better to meet
some dangers half way, though they come nothing
near, than to keep too Jong a watch upon their ap-
proaches ; for if a man watch too long, it is odds he
will fall asleep. On the other side, to be deceived
with too long shadows, as some have been when the
moon was low, and shone on their enemies back, and
so to shoot off before the time > or to teach dangers
to come on, by over-early buckling towards them,
is another extreme. The ripeness or unripeness of
the occasion* as we said, must ever be well weighed ;
and generally it is good to commit the beginnings of
all great actions to Argos with his hundred eyes,
and the ends to Briareus with his hundred hands:
first to watch, and then to speed. For the helmet of
Pluto, which maketh the politic man go invisible, is
secrecy in the counsel, and celerity in the execution.
For when things are once come to the execution,
there is no secrecy comparable to celerity ; like the
motion of a bullet in the air, which fiieth so swift as
it outruns the eye.

XXII. Of CUNNING.

WE take cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom.
And certainly there is great difference between a
cunning man and a wrise man; not only in point of
honesty, but in point of ability, There be that can
pack the cards, and yet cannot play well ; so there
are some that are good in canvasses and factions,
that are otherwise weak men. Again, it is one thing
to understand persons, and another thing to under-
stand matters ; for many are perfect in men's humours,
that are not greatly capable of the real part of
business ; which is the constitution of one that hath
studied men more than books. Such men are fitter
for practice than for counsel ; and they are good but
in their own alley : turn them to new men, and they
have lost their aim : so as the old rule to know a fool

VOL. II. X

306 Esseiys, Civil and Moral.

from a wise man, Mitte ambos nudos ad ignofos, et
videbis, doth scarce hold for them. And because
these canning men are like haberdashers of small
wares, it is not amiss to set forth their shop.

It is a point of cunning, to wait upon him with
\vhom you speak with your eye ; as the Jesuits give
it in precept ; for there be many wise men that have
secret hearts and transparent countenances. Yet this
should be done with a demure abasing of your eye
sometimes, as the Jesuits also do use.

Another is, that when you have any thing to ob-
tain of present 'dispatch, you entertain and amuse the
party with whom you deal with some other discourse j
that he be not too much awake to make objections.
I knew a counsellor and secretary, that never came
to queen Elizabeth of England with bills to sign, but
he would always first put her into some discourse of
estate, that she might the less mind the bills.

The like surprise may be. made by moving things
when the party is in haste, and cannot stay to con-
sider advisedly of what is moved.

If a man would cross a business, that he doubts
some other would handsomely and effectually move,
Jet him pretend to wish it well, and move it himself
in such sort as may foil it.

The breaking off in the midst of what one was
about to say, as if he took himself up, breeds a greater
appetite in him with whom you confer, to know
more.

And because it works better when any thing
seemeth to be gotten from you by question, than if
you offer it of yourself, you may lay a bait for a ques-
tion, by shewing another visage and countenance
than you are wont ; to the end to give occasion for
the party to ask what the matter is of the change -, as
Nehemiah did, And I had. not before that time been sad
before the king.

In things that are tender and unpleasing, it is good
to break the ice by some whose words are of less
weight, and to reserve the more weighty voice to

o * o y

come in as. by chance, so that he may be asked the

Essays, Civil and Moral.

question upon the other's speech : as Narcissus did,
in relating to Claudius the marriage of Messalina and
Silius.

In things that a man would not be seen in himself,
it is a point of cunning to borrow the name of the
world ; as to say, The world says, or, There is a
speech abroad.

I knew one, that when he wrote a letter, he would
put that which was most material in the postscript,
as if it had been a bye-matter.

I know another that, when he carne to have speech,
he would pass over that that he intended most ; and
go forth, and come back again, and speak of it as of
a thing that he had almost forgot.

Some procure themselves to be surprised at such
times, as it is like the party that they work upon
will suddenly come upon them; and to be found with
a letter in their hand, or doing somewhat which they
are not accustomed to; to the end they may be ap-
posed of those things, which of themselves they are
desirous to utter.

It is a point of cunning to let fall those words in
a man's own name, which he would have another
man learn and use, and thereupon take advantage. I
knew two that were competitors for the secretary's
place in queen Elizabeth's time, and yet kept good
quarter between themselves, and would confer one
with another upon the business; and the one of them
said, that to be secretary in the declination of a
monarchy was a ticklish thing, and that he did not
affect it : the other straight caught up those words,
and discoursed with divers of his friends, that he had
no reason to desire to be secretary in the declination
of a monarchy. The first man took hold of it, and
found means it was told the queen ; who hearing of
a declination of a monarchy, took it so ill, as she
would never after hear of the other's suit.

There is a cunning which we in England call, the
turning of the cat in the pan ; which 'is, when that
which a man says to another, he lays it as if another
had said it to him; and to say truth, it is not easy,

x 2

308 Essays, Civil and Moral.

when such a matter passed betwen two, to make
it appear from which of them it first moved and
, began.

It is a way that some men have, to glance and dart at
others, by justifying themselves by negatives ; as to
say, This I do not : as Tigellinus did towards Burrhus,
se non diversas spes, scd incohimitatem impcratoris sini-
plidter spcctare.

Some have in readiness so many tales and stories,
as there is nothing they would insinuate, but they can
wrap it into a tale ; which serveth both to keep
themselves more in guard, and to make others carry
it with more pleasure.

It is a good point of cunning, for a man to shape
the answer he would have in his own words and pro-
positions ; for it makes the other party stick the less. *

It is strange how lon«- some men will lie in wait to

O O

speak somewhat they desire to say ; and how far
about they will fetch, and how many other matters
they will beat over to come near it; it is a thing of
great patience, but yet of much use.

A sudden, bold, and unexpected question, doth
many times surprise a man, and lay him open. Like
to him, that having changed his name, and walking in
Paul's, another suddenly came behind him, and called
him by his true name, whereat straight ways he looked
back.

But these small wares and petty points of cunning
are infinite, and it were a good deed to make a list of
them ; for that nothing doth more hurt in a state, than
that cunning men pass for wise.

But certainly some there are that know the resorts and
falls of business, that cannot sink into the main of it ;
like a house that hath convenient stairs and entries,
but never a fair room. Therefore you shall see them
find out pretty looses in the -conclusion, but are no
ways able to examine or debate matters. And yet
commonly they take advantage of their inability, and
would be thought wits of direction. Some build ra-
ther upon the abusing of others, and, as we now say,
pulling -tricks upon them, than upon soundness, of

Essays, Civil and Moral. 309

their own proceedings. But Solomon saith, Pmdens
advertit ad gressus suos : stultus divertit ad dolos.

XXIII. Of WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF.

AN ant is a wise creature for itself: but it is a
shrewd thing in an orchard or garden. And certainly
men that are great lovers of themselves waste the pub-
lic. Divide with reason between self-love and so-
ciety; and be so true to thyself, as thou be not false
to others; especially to thy king and country. It is a
poor centre of a man's actions, Himself. It is right
earth. For that only stands fast upon its own centre :
whereas all things that have affinity with the heavens,
move upon the centre of another which they benefit.
The referring of all to a man's self is more tolerable
in a sovereign prince, because themselves are not only
themselves, but their good and evil is at the peril of
the public fortune. But it is a desperate evil in a
servant to a prince, or a citizen in a republic. For
whatsoever affairs pass such a man's hands, he crook-
eth them to his own ends: which must needs be often
eccentric to the ends of his master or state. There-
fore let princes or states choose such servants as have
not this mark ; except they mean their service should
be made but the accessary. That which maketh
the effect more pernicious is, that all proportion is
lost: it were disproportion enough for the. servant's
good to be preferred before the master's; but yet it is
a greater extreme, when a little good of the servant
shall carry things against a great good ot the master's.
And yet that is the case of bad officers, treasurers, am-
bassadors, generals, and other false and corrupt ser-
vants ; which set a bias upon their bowl of their own
petty ends and envies, to the overthrow of their
masters great and important affairs. And for the most
part, the good such servants receive, is after the model
of their own fortune ; but the hurt they sell for that
good, is after the model of their master's fortune. And
certainly it is the nature of extreme self-lovers, as they
will set an house on fire, and it were but to roast their
eggs: and yet these men many times hold credit with

10 Essays, Civil and Moral.

their masters, because their study is but to please them,
and profit themselves: and for either respect they will
abandon the good of their affairs.

Wisdom for a man's self is in many branches thereof
a depraved thing. It is the wisdom of rats that will be
sure to leave a house somewhat before it fall. It is the
wisdom of the fox that thrusts out the badger, who
digged and made room for him. It is the wisdom of
crocodiles, that shed tears when they would devour.
But that which is specially to be noted is, that those
which, as Cicero says of Pompey, are sui amantcs sine
rivali, are many times unfortunate. And whereas
they have all their time sacrificed to themselves, they
become in the end themselves sacrifices to the incon-
stancy of fortune, whose wings they thought by their
self-wisdom to have pinioned.

XXIV. Of INNOVATIONS.

AS the births of living creatures at first are ill
shapen ; so are all inno\ ations, which are the births ot
time. Yet notwithstanding as those that first bring
honour into their family, are commonly more worthy
than most that succeed : so the first precedent, if it
be good, is seldom attained by imitation. For ill, to
man's nature, as it stands perverted, hath a natural
motion strongest in continuance : but good as a forced
motion, strongest at first. Surely every medicine is an
innovation, and he that will not apply new remedies,
must expect new evils ; for time is the greatest inno-
vator : and if time of course alter things to the worse,
and wisdom and counsel shall not alter them to the
better, what shall be the end ? It is true, that what
is settled by custom, though it be not good, yet at
least it is fit. And those things which have long gone
together, are, as it were, confederate within them-
selves : whereas new things piece not so well ; but
though they help by their utility, yet they trouble by
their unconformity. Besides, they are like strangers,
more admired and less favoured. All this is true if
time stood still; which contrariwise moveth so round,
that a froward retention of custom is as turbulent a

Essays, Civil and Moral.

thing as an innovation ; and they that reverence too
much old times are but a scorn to the new. It were
good, therefore, that men in their innovations would
follow the example of time itself, which indeed inno-
vateth greatly, but quietly and by degrees scarce to be
perceived : for otherwise, whatsoever is new is un-
Jooked for ; and ever it mends some, and impairs others :
and he that is holpen takes it for a fortune, and thanks
the time ; and he that is hurt, for a wrong, and im-
puteth it to the author. It is good also not to try ex-
periments in states, except the necessity be urgent, or
the utility evident; and well to beware that it be
the reformation that draweth on the change; and
not the desire of change that pretendeth the reforma-
tion. And lastly, that the novelty, though it be not
rejected, yet be held for a suspect: and, as the Scrip-
ture saith, that ice make a stand upon the ancient way,
and then look about its, and discover what is the straight
and right way, and so to walk in it.

XXV. Of DISPATCH.

AFFECTED dispatch is one of the most dangerous
things to business that can be. It is like that which
the physicians call predigestion, or hasty digestion,
which is sure to fill the body full of crudities and secret
seeds of diseases. Therefore measure not dispatch by
the times of sitting, but by the advancement of the
business. And as in races, it is not the large stride, or
high lift, that makes the speed, so in business, the
keeping close to the matter, and not taking of it too
much at once, procureth dispatch. It is the care of
some, only to come off speedily for the time ; or to
contrive some false periods of business, because they
may seem men of dispatch. But it is one thing to
abbreviate by contracting, another by cutting off; and
business so handled at several sittings or meetings,
goeth commonly backward and forward in an un-
steady manner. I knew a wise man that had it for a
by-word, when he saw men hasten to a conclusion,
" Stay a little, that we may make an end the sooner."

On the other side, true dispatch is a rich thing. For

312 Essays, Civil and Moral

time is the measure of business, as money is of wares :
and business is bought at a dear hand, where there is
small dispatch. The Spartans apd Spaniards have been
noted to be of small dispatch : Mi reiiga la mucrtc de
&pagna; Let my death come from Spain; for then it
will be sure to be long in coming.

Give good hearing to those that give the first in-
formation in business: and rather direct them in the
beginning, than interrupt them in the continuance of
their speeches: for he that is put out of his own or-
der, will go forward and backward, and be more te-
dious while he waits upon his memory, than he could
have been it he had gone on in his own course. But
sometimes it is seen, that the moderator is more trou-
blesome than the actor.

Iterations are commonly loss of time: but there is
no such gain of time, as to iterate often the state ofthe
question; for it chaseth away many a frivolous speech
as it is coming forth. Long and curious speeches are
as fit for dispatch as a robe or mantle with a long
train is for a race. Prefaces, and passages, and ex-
cusations, and other speeches of reference to the per-
son, are great wastes of time ; and though they seem
to proceed of modesty, they are bravery. Yet beware
of being too material, when there is any impediment
or obstruction in men's wills; for pre-occupation of
mind ever requircth preface of speech ; like a fomenta-
tion to make the unguent enter.

Above all things, order, and distribution, and sin-
gling out of parts, is the lite of dispatch ; so as the dis-
tribution be not too subtile: for he that doth not di-
vide, will never enter well into business; and he that
divideth too much, will never come out of it clearly.
To choose time, is to save time; and an unseasonable
motion is but beating the air. There be three parts
of business; the preparation, the debate or examina-
tion, and the perfection. Whereof, if you look for
dispatch, let the middle only be the work of many,
and the first and last the work of few. The proceed-
ing upon somewhat conceived in writing, doth for the
most part facilitate dispatch: for though it should bo

Essays, Civ Hand Moral. 313

wholly rejected, yet that negative is more pregnant
of direction than an indefinite; as ashes are more ge-
nerative than dust.

XXVI. Of SEEMING WISE.

IT hath been' an opinion, that the French are wiser
than they scern, and the Spaniards seem wiser than
they are. But howsoever it be between nations, cer-
tainly it is so between man and man. For as the
apostle saith of godliness, having a shew of godliness,
but denying the power thereof; so certainly there are in
point of wisdom and sufficiency that do nothing or
little very solemnly ; magno conatu nugas. It is a ri-
diculous thing, and fit for a satire to persons of judg-
ment, to see what shifts these formalists have, and
what prospectives to make superficies to seem body
that hath depth in bulk. Some are so close and re-
served, as they will not shew their wrares but by a
dark light ; and seem always to keep back some-
what; and when they know within themselves,
they speak of that they do not well know, would ne-
vertheless seem to others to know of that which they
may not well speak. Some help themselves with
countenance and gesture, and are wise by signs ; as
Cicero saith of Piso, that when he answered him, he
fetched one of his brows up to his forehead, arid bent
the other down to his chin : respondes, altero adfron-
tem sublato, altero ad mentum depresso supercilio, cru-
delitatevi tibi non placere. Some think to bear it by
speaking a great word, and being peremptory ; and
go on, and take by admittance that which they can-
not make good. Some, whatsoever is beyond their
reach, will seem to despise or make light of it as im-
pertinent or curious; and so would have their igno-
rance seem judgment. Some are never without a
difference, and commonly by amusing men with a sub-
tiltv, blanch the matter; of whom A. Gellius saith,
hominem delirum, qui verborum minutiis rerumfrangit.
ponder a. Of which kind also, Plato in his Protagoras
bringeth in Prodicus in scorn, and maketh him make
a speech that consisteth of distinctions from the be-

S 1 4: Essays, Civil and Moral.

ginning to the end. Generally such men in all delibe-
rations find ease to be of the negative side, and affect
a credit to object and foretel difficulties : for when
propositions are denied, there is an end of them ; but if
they be allowed, it requireth anew work : which false
point of wisdom is the bane of business. To con-
clude, there is no decaying merchant, or inward beg-
gar, hath so many tricks to uphold the credit of their
wealth, as these empty persons have to maintain the
credit of their sufficiency. Seeming wise men may
make shift to get opinion; but Jet no man choose
them for employment, for certainly you were better
take for business a man somewhat absurd, than over
formal.

XXVII. Of FRIENDSHIP.

IT had been hard for him that spake it to have put
more truth and untruth together, in tew words, than
in that speech ; " Whosoever is delighted in solitude,
<c is either a wild beast or a God." For it is most
true, that a natural and secret hatred, and aversation
towards society, in any man, hath somewhat of the
savage beast : but it is most untrue, that it should
have any character at all of the divine nature, except
it proceed, not out of a pleasure in solitude, but out
of a love and desire to. sequester a man's self for a
higher conversation : such as is found to have been
falsly and feignedly in some of the heathen ; as Epi-
menides the Candian, Numa the Roman, Empedocles
the Sicilian, and Apollonius of Tyana ; and truly and
really in divers of the ancient hermits, and holy fa-
thers of the church. But little do men perceive what
solitude is, and how far it extendeth. For a crowd
is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pic-
tures ; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is
no love. The Latin adage mecteth with it a little ;
Mngim civitas, magna solitudo , because in a great town
friends are scattered, so that there is not that fellow-
ship, for the most part, which is -in less neighbour-
hoods. But we may go farther, and affirm most truly,
that it is a mere and miserable solitude, to want true

S0yt , Civil and Moral. 3 I 5

friends, without which the world is but a wilderness.
And even in this sense also of solitude, whosoever in
the frame of his nature and affections is unfit for friend-
ship, he taketh it of the beast, and not from hu-
manity,

A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and dis-
charge of the fulness and swellings of the heart, which
passions of all kinds do cause and induce. We know
diseases of stoppings and suffocations are the most dan-
gerous in the body ; and it is not much otherwise in the
mind ; you may take sarza to open the liver ; steel to
open the spleen; flour of sulphur for the lungs ; cas-
toreum for the brain ; but no receipt openeth the heart
but a true friend, to whom you may impart griefs,
joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and whatso-
ever lieth upon the heart, to oppress it, in a kind of
civil shrift or confession.

It is a strange thing to observe, how high a rate
great kings and monarchs do set upon this fruit of
friendship, whereof we speak; so great, as they pur-
chase it many times at the hazard of their own safety
and greatness. For princes, in regard of the distance
of their fortune from that of their subjects and ser-
vants, cannot gather this fruit, except, to make them-
selves capable thereof, they raise some persons to be
as it were companions, and almost equals to them-
selves; which many times sorteth to inconvenience.
The modern languages give unto such persons the
name of favourites or privadoes ; as if it were matter
of grace or conversation : but the Roman name at-
taineth the true use and cause thereof; naming them
partlcipes air arum ; for it is that which tieth the knot.
And we see plainly, that this hath been done, not by
weak and passionate princes only, but by the wisest
and most politic that ever reigned, who have often-
times joined to themselves some of their servants,
whom both themselves have called friends, and al-
lowed others likewise to call them in the same man-
ner, using the word which is received between pri-
vate men.

L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised Pom-

1 6 Essays > Civil and Moral.

pey, after surnamcd the Great, to that height, that
Pompey vaunted himself for Sylla's over-match. For
•when he had carried the consulship for a friend of his
against the pursuit ofSylla, and that Sylla did a little
resent thereat, and began to speak great, Pompey
turned upon him again, and in effect bade him be
quiet ; for that more men adore the sun rising, than
the sun setting. With Julius Csesar, Decimus Brutus
had obtained that interest, as he set him down in his
testament for heir in remainder after his nephew.
And this was the man that had power with him to
draw him forth to his death. For when Csesar would
rlave discharged the senate, in regard of some ill pre-
sages, and specially a dream of Calpurnia ; this man
Jifted him gently by the arm out of his chair, telling
him, He hoped he would not dismiss the senate, till
his wife had dreamed a better dream. And it seem-
eth, his favour wras so great, as Antonius, in a letter
which is recited verbatim in one of Cicero's Philippics,
callet-h him venefica, witch ; as if he had enchanted
Caesar. Augustus raised Agrippa, though of mean
birth, to that height, as when he consulted with
Maecenas about the marriage of his daughter Julia,
Maecenas took the liberty to tell him, That he must
either marry his daughter to Agrippa, or take away
his life ; there was no third way, he had made him so
great. With Tiberius Csesar, Sejanus had ascended to
that height, as they two were termed and reckoned as
a pair of friends. Tiberius in a letter to him saith ;
Hcec pro amidtia nostra non occidtavi : an<J the whole
senate dedicated an altar to Friendship as to a goddess,
in respect of the great dearness of friendship between
them two. The like or more was between Septimius
Severus and Plantianus. For he forced his eldest son
to marry the daughter of Plantianus ; and would
often maintian Plantianus in doing affronts to his son :
and did write also in a letter to the senate, by these
words: " I love the man so we'll, as I wish he may
<c over-live me." Now if these princes had been as a
Trajan, or a Marcus Aurelius, a man might have
thought that this had proceeded of an abundant good-

Essays, 'Civil and Moral.

ness of nature ; but being men so wise, of such
strength and severity of mind, and so extreme lovers
of themselves, as all these were ; it proveth most
plainly, that they found their own felicity, though as
great as ever happened to mortal men, but as an half
piece, except they might have a friend to make it en-
tire ; and yet, which is more, they were princes that
had wives, sons, nephews ; and yet all these could
not supply the comfort of friendship.

It is not to be forgotten what Commineus ohserveth
of his first master duke Charles the Hardy, namely,
That he would communicate his secrets with none;
and least of all those secrets which troubled him most.
Whereupon he goeth on, and saith, That towards his
latter time, that closeness did impair, and a little
perish his understanding. Surely Coinmineus might
have made the same judgment also, if it had pleased
him, of his second master Lewis the eleventh, whose
closeness was indeed his tormentor. The parable of
Pythagoras is dark, but true; Cor ?ie edito, eat not the
heart. Certainly, if a man would give it a hard
phrase, those that want friends to open themselves
unto, are cannibals of their own hearts. But one
thing is most admirable, wherewith I will conclude
this first fruit of friendship, which is, that this com-
municating of a man's self to his friend works two
contrary effects; for it redoubleth joys, and cutteth
griefs in half's. For there is no man that imparteth
his joys to his friend, but he joyeth the more ; and no
man that Fmparteth his griefs to his friend, but he
grieveth the less. So that it is in truth of operation
upon a man's mind of like virtue, as the alchemists
use to attribute to their stone, for man's body ; that it
worketh all contrary effects, but still to the good and
benefit of nature. But yet, without praying in aid of
alchemists, there is a manifest image of this in the
ordinary course of nature. For .in bodies, unign
strengthened! and cherisheth any natural action ; and,
on the other side, weakeneth and duileth any violent
impression ; and even so is it of minds.

The second fruit of friendship, is healthful and sove-

318 EfMyty Civil and Marat.

reign for the understanding, as the first is for the affec-
tions. For friendship maketh indeed a fair day in the
affections, from storm and tempests; but it maketh
day-light in the understanding, out of darkness and
confusion of thoughts : neither is this to be under-
stood only of faithful counsel, which a man receiveth
from his friend; but before you come to that, certain
it is, that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many
thoughts, his wits and understanding do clarify and
break up in the communicating and discoursing with
another : he tosseth his thoughts more easily; he mar-
shalleth them more orderly ; he seeth how they look
when they are turned into words; finally, he waxeth
wiser than himself; and that more by an hour's dis-
course, than by a day's meditation. It was well said
by Themistocles to the king of Persia, That speech
was like cloth of Arras, opened and put abroad,
whereby the imagery doth appear in figure; whereas
in thoughts they lie but as in packs. Neither is this
second fruit of friendship, in opening the understand-
ing, restrained only to such friends, as are able to give
a man counsel; they indeed are best, but even, with-
out that, a man learneth of himself, and bringeth his
own thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as against
•a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word ; a man
were better relate himself to a statue or picture, than
to suffer his thoughts to pass in smother.

Add now, to make this second fruit of friendship
complete, that other point which lieth more open,
and falleth within vulgar observation ; which is faith-
ful counsel from a friend. Heraclitus saith well in
one of his enigmas, Dry light is ever the best. And
certain it is, that the light that a man receiveth by
counsel from another, is drier and purer, than that
which cometh from his own understanding and judg-
ment;, which is ever infused and drenched in his affec-
tions and customs. So as there is as much difference
between the counsel that a friend giveth, and that a
man giveth himself, as there is between the counsel of
a friend and of a flatterer. For there is no such flatterer
as is a man's self 3 and there is no sucli remedy against

Essays, Civil and Moral. 3 i *

flattery of a man's self, as the liberty of a friend.
Counsel is of two sorts; the one concerning manners,
the other concerning business. For the first, the best
preservative to keep the mind in health, is the faithful
admonition of a friend. The calling of a man's self
to a strict account, is a medicine sometimes too pierc-
ing and corrosive. Reading good books of morality,
is a little flat and dead. Observing our faults in
others, is sometimes improper for our case : but the
best receipt, best, I say, to work, and best to take, is
the admonition of a friend! It is a strange thing to
behold what gross errors and extreme absurdities
many, especially of the greater sort, do commit for
want of a friend to tell them of them; to the great
damage both of their fame and fortune. For, as St«
James saith, they are as men that look sometimes into
a glass, and presently forget their own shape and favour.
As for business, a man may think if he will, that two
eyes see no more than one ; or that a gamester sceth
always more than a looker-on ; or that a man in anger
is as wise as he that hath said over the four and twenty
letters ; or that a musket may be shot off, as well upon
the arm, as upon a rest; and such other fond and high
imaginations, to think himself all in all. But when
all his done, the help of good counsel is that which
setteth business straight. And if any man think, that
he will take counsel, but it shall be by pieces ; ask-
ing counsel in one business of one man, and in
another business of another man; it is well, that is
to say, better perhaps than if he asked none at all,
but he runneth two dangers : one, that he shall not
be faithfully counselled ; for it is a rare thing, except
it be from a perfect and entire friend, to have counsel
given, but such as shall be bowed and crooked to
some ends which he hath that giveth it. The other,
that he shall have counsel given, hurtful and unsafe,
though with good meaning, and mixed partly of
mischief, and partly of remedy : even as if you would
call a physician that is thought good for the cure of
the disease you complain of, but is unacquainted with
your body ; and therefore may put you in way for-

320 Essays, Civil and Moral.

a present cure, but overthroweth your health in some
other kind, and so cure the disease and kill the pa-
tient. But a friend that is wholly acquainted with a
man's estate, will beware by furthering any present
business how he dasheth upon other inconvenience.
And therefore rest not upon scattered counsels ; they
will rather distract and mislead, than settle and
direct-
After these two noble fruits of friendship, peace in
the affections, and support of the judgment, followeth
the last fruit, which is like the pomegranate, full of
many kernels ; I mean aid, and bearing a part in all
actions and occasions. Here the best wray to repre-
sent to life the manifold use of friendship, is to cast
and see how many things there are which a man
cannot do himself; and then it will appear that it
was a sparing speech of the ancients to say, That a
friend is another himself; for that a friend is far more
than, himself. Men have their time, and die many
times in desire of somethings which they principally
take to heart ; the bestowing of a child, the finishing
of a work, or the like. If a man have a true friend,
he may rest almost secure, that the care of those
things will continue after him. So that a man hath
as it were two lives in his desires. A man hath a
body, and that body is confined to a place ; but where
friendship is, all offices of life are as it were granted
to him and his deputy : for he may exercise them by
his friend. How many things are there, which a man
cannot, with any face or comeliness, say or do him-
self? A man can scarce alledge his own merits with
modesty, much less extol them : a man cannot some-
times brook to supplicate or beg ; and a number of
the like. But all these things are graceful in a friend's
mouth, which are blushing in a man's own. So
again, a man's person hath many proper relations,
which he cannot put off. A man cannot speak to his
son but as a father ; to his wife, but as a husband ; to
his enemy, but upon terms; whereas a friend may
speak as the case requires, and not as it sorteth with
the person. But to enumerate these things were end-

Essays, Civil. and Moral. 321

less ; I have given the rule, where a man cannot fitly
play his own part ^ if he have not a friend, he may
quit the stage.

xxYirr. of

RICHES are for spending; and spending for ho-
nour and good actions. Therefore extraordinary ex-
pence must be limited by the worth of the occasion;
for voluntary undoing may be as well for a man's
country, as for the kingdom of heaven. But ordinary
expence ought to be limited by a man's estate, and
governed with such regard as it be within his com-
pass; and not subject to deceit and abuse of servants ;
and ordered to the best shew, that the bills may be
less than the estimation abroad. Certainly if a man
will keep but of even hand, his ordinary expences
ought to be but to the half of his receipts; and if he
think to wax rich, but to the third part. It is no
baseness for the greatest, to descend and look into
their own estate. Some forbear it, not upon negli-
gence alone, but doubting to bring themselves into
melancholy, in respect they shall find it broken. But
wounds cannot be cured without searching. He that
cannot look into his own estate at all, had need both
choose well those whom he employeth, and change
them often : for new are more timorous and less sub-
tile. He that can look into his estate but seldom, it
behoveth him to turn all to certainties. A man had
need, if he be plentiful in some kind of expence, to be
as saving again in some other. As if he be plentiful in
diet, to be saving in apparel : if he be plentiful in the
hall, to be saving in the stable: and the like. For
he that is plentiful in expences of all kinds, will
hardly be preserved from decay. In clearing of a
man's estate, he may as well hurt himself in being too
sudden, as in letting it run on too long: for hasty
selling is com ai only as di sad vantage able as interest.
Besides, he that clears at once will relapse ; for finding
himself out of straits, he will revert to his customs;
but he that cleareth by degress induceth a habit of
frugality, and gaineth as well upon his mind as upon his

VOL. II. Y

Essays, Civil and Moral.

estate. Certainly, who hath a state to repair, may
not despise small things : and commonly it is less dis-
honourable to abridge petty charges, than to stoop to
petty gettings. A man ought warily to begin charges,
which once begun will continue ; but in matters that
return not, he may be more magnificent.

XXIX. Of the TRUE GREATNESS of KINGDOMS and
ESTATES.

THE speech of Themistocles the Athenian, which
was haughty and arrogant in taking so much to him-
self, had been a grave and wise observation and cen-
sure, applied at large to others. Desired at a feast to
touch a lute, he said, He could not fiddle, but yet he
could make a small town a great city. These words,
holpen a little with a metaphor, may express two
differing abilities in those that deal in business of
estate. For if a true survey be taken of counsellors
and statesmen, there may be found, though rarely,
those who can make a small state great, and yet
cannot fiddle ; as on the other side, there will be
found a great many that can fiddle very cunningly,
but yet are so far from being able to make a small
state great, as their gift lieth the other way ; to bring
a great and flourishing estate to ruin and decay. And
certainly those degenerate arts and shifts, whereby
many counsellors and governors gain both favour
with their masters, and estimation with the vulgar,
deserve no better name than fiddling ; being things
rather pleasing for the time, and graceful to them-
selves only, than tending to the weal and advance-
ment of the state which they serve. There are also,
no doubt, counsellors and governors which may be
held sufficient, negotiis pares, able to manage affairs,
and to keep them from precipices and manifest in-
conveniencics, which nevertheless are far from the
ability to raise and amplify an estate, in power,
means, 'and fortune. But be the workmen what
they may be, let us speak of the work ; that is, the
true greatness of kingdoms and estates, and the means
thereof. An argument fit for great and mighty princes

Essays, Civil and Moral. 323

to have in their hand ; to the end that neither by
over-measuring their torces they lose themselves in
vain enterprises ; nor on the other side, by under-
valuing them, they descend to fearful and pusillani-
mous counsels.

The greatness of an estate in bulk and territory
doth fall under measure, and the greatness of finances
and revenue doth fall under computation. The po-
pulation may appear by musters ; and the number
and greatness of cities and towns by cards and maps.
But yet there is not any thing amongst civil affairs
more subject to error, than the right valuation and
true judgment concerjning the power and forces of an
estate. The kingdom of heaven is compared, not to
any great kernel or nut, but to a grain of mustard-
seed ; which is one of the least grains, but hath in it
a property and spirit hastily to get up and spread.
So are there states, great in territory, and yet not apt
to enlarge or command ; and some that have but a
small dimension of stem, and yet apt to be the founda-
tions of great monarchies.

Walled towns, stored arsenals and armouries,
goodly races of horse, chariots of war, elephants,
ordnance, artillery, and the like : all this is but a
sheep in a lion's skin, except the breed and disposi-
tion of the people be stout and warlike. Nay, num-
ber itself, in armies, importeth not much, where the
people is of weak courage ; for, as Virgil saith, it
never troubles a wolf how many the sheep be. The;
army of the Persians in the plains of Arbela, was such
a vast sea of people, as it did somewhat astonish the
commanders in Alexander's army ; who came to him
therefore, and wished him to set upon them by
night; but he answered, he would not pilfer the vic-
tory : and the defeat was easy. When Tigranes the
Armenian, being encamped upon a hill with four
hundred thousand men, discovered the army of the
Romans, being not above fourteen thousand march-
ing towards him ; he made himself merry with
it, and said, " Yonder men are too many for an eni-
" bassage, and too few for a fight.'* But before the

Y 2

Essays, Civil and Moral.

sun set, he found them enow to give him the chase,
with infinite slaughter. Many are the examples of the
great odds between number and courage : so that a
man may truly make a judgment, that the principal
point of greatness in any state is to have a race of
military men. Neither is money the sinews of war,
as it is trivially said, where the sinews of men's arms,
in base and effeminate people, are failing. For Solon
said well to Croesus, when in ostentation he shewed
him his gold, " Sir, if any other come that hath better
" iron than you, he will be master of all this gold.*'
Therefore let any prince or state think soberly of his
forces, except his militia of natives be of good and
valiant soldiers. And let princes, on the other side,
that have subjects of martial disposition, know their
own strength, unless they be otherwise wanting unto
themselves. As for mercenary forces, which is the
help in this case, all examples shew, that whatso-
ever estate or prince doth rest upon them, he may
spread his feathers for a time, but he will mew them
soon after.

The blessing of Judah and Issachar will never
meet ; that the same people or nation should be
both the lion's whelp, and the ass between burdens.
Neither will it be, that a people over-laid with taxes
should ever become valiant and martial. It is true,
that taxes levied by consent of the estate, do abate
men's courage less; as it hath been seen notably in
the excises of the Low Countries ; and, in some
degree, in the subsidies of England. For you must
note, that we speak now of the heart, and not of the
purse. So that although the same tribute and tax,
laid by consent, or bv imposing, be all one to the
purse, yet it works diversly upon the courage. So
that you may conclude, that no people over-charged
with tribute is n't tor empire.

Let states that aim at greatness, take heed how
their nobility and gentlemen do multiply too fast ;
for that maketh the common subject grow to be a
peasant and base swain, driven out of heart, and in
effect but the gentleman's labourer. Even as you

Essays, Civil and Moral. 325

may see in coppice woods; if you leave your staddles
too thick, you shall never have clean under-wood, but
shrubs and bushes. So in countries, if the gentlemen
be too many, the commons will be base ; and you
will bring it to that, that not the hundred poll will
be fit for an helmet ; especially as to the infantry,
which is the nerve of an army : and so there will be
great population, and little strength. This which I
speak of, hath been no where better seen, than by
comparing of England and France; whereof England,
though far less in territory and population, hath been,
nevertheless an overmatch ; in regard the middle peo-
ple of England make good soldiers, which the peasants
of France do not. And herein the device of king
Henry the seventh, whereof I have spoken largely in
the history of his life, was profound and admirable :
in making farms, and houses of husbandry, of a stand-
ard ; that is, maintained with such a proportion of
Jand unto them, as may breed a subject to live in con-
venient plenty, and no servile condition ; and to keep
the plough in the hands of the owners, and not mere
hirelings. And thus indeed you shall attain to Vir-
gil's character which he gives to ancient Italy:

Terra jwtcns armis atque ubcrc glcbcc.
Neither is that state, which, for any thing I know, is
almost peculiar to England, and hardly to be found
any where else, except it be perhaps in Poland, to be-
passed over; I mean the state of free servants, and
attendants upon noblemen and gentlemen, which are
no ways inferior unto the yeomanry tor arms : and
therefore out of all question, the splendour and mag-
nificence, and great retinues, and hospitality of no-
blemen and gentlemen, received into custom, doth
much conduce unto martial greatness: whereas, con-
trariwise, the close and reserved living of noblemen
and gentlemen, causeth a penury of military forces.

By all means it is to be procured, that the trunk of
Nebuchadnezzar's tree of monarchy be great enough
to bear the branches and the boughs; that is, that the
natural subjects of the crown or state bear a sufficient
proportion to the stranger subjects that they govern.

326 Essays, Civil and Moral.

Therefore all states, that are liberal of naturalization
towards strangers are fit for empire. For to think
that an handful of people can, with the greatest cou-
rage and policy in the world, embrace too large extent
of dominion, it may hold for a time, but it will fail
suddenly. The Spartans were a nice people in§point
of naturalization ; whereby, while they kept their
compass, they stood firm ; but when they did spread,
and their boughs were become too great for their stem,
they became a windfal upon the sudden. Never any
state was, in this point, so open to receive strangers
into their body, as were the Romans ; therefore it
sorted with them accordingly, for they grew to the
greatest monarchy. Their manner was to grant na-
turalization, which they called jus civitatis, and to
grant it in the highest degree, that is, not only jus com-
mercii, jus connubri, jus her edit at is ; but also, jus suf-
fragiiy and jus honorum : and this not to singular per-?
sons alone, but likewise to whole families; yea, to
cities, and sometimes to nations. Add to this, their
qustom of plantation of colonies, whereby the Roman
plant was removed into the soil of other nations: and
putting both constitutions together, you will say, that
it was not the Romans that spread upon the world, but
it was the world that spread upon the Romans: and
that was the sure way of greatness. I have marvelled
sometimes at Spain, how they clasp and contain so
large dominions, with so few natural Spaniards: but
sure the whole compass of Spain is a very great body
of a tree, far above Rome and Sparta at the first. And
besides, though they have not had that usage, to natu-
ralize liberally, yet they have that which is next to it;
that is, to employ, almost indifferently, all nations in
their militia ot ordinary soldiers; yea, and sometimes
in their highest commands. Nay, it seemeth at this
instant, they are sensible of this want of natives; as
by the pragmatical sanction, now published, ap-
peareth.

It is certain, that sedentary and \vithin-door arts,
and delicate manufactures, that require rather the fin-
ger than the arm, have in their nature a contrariety to

Essays, Civil and Moral* 327

a military disposition. And generally all warlike
people are a little idle, and love danger better than
travail: neither must they be too much broken of it,
if they shall be preserved in vigour. Therefore it was
great advantage in the ancient states of Sparta,
Athens, Rome, and others, that they had the use of
slaves, which commonly did rid those manufactures.
But that is abolished, in greatest part, by the Chris-
tian law. That which cometh near to it, is, to leave
those arts chiefly to strangers, which for that purpose
are the more easily to be received, and to contain the
principal bulk of the vulgar natives within those three
kinds ; tillers of the ground, free-servants, and han-
dicraftsmen of strong and manly arts, as smiths, ma-
sons, carpenters, etc. not reckoning professed sol-
diers.

But above all, for empire and greatness, it import-
eth most, that a nation do profess arms as their prin-
cipal honour, study, and occupation. For the things
which we formerly have spoken of, are but habiiita-
tions towards arms : and what is habitation without
intention and act ? Romulus after his death, as
they report or feign, sent a present to the Romans,
that above ail they should intend arms, and then they
should prove the greatest empire of the world. The
fabric of the state of Sparta was wholly, though not
wisely, framed and composed to that scope and end.
The Persians and Macedonians had it fora flash. The
Gauls, Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and others,
had it for a time. The Turks have it at this day,
though in great declination. Of Christian Europe
they that have it, are in effect only the Spaniards.
But it is so plain, that every man profiteth in that he
most intendeth, that it needeth not to be stood upon.
It is enough to point at it ; that no nation, which doth
not directly profess arms, may look to have greatness
fall into their mouths. And on the other side, it is a
most certain oracle of time, that those states that con-
tinue long in that profession, as the Romans and Turks
principally have done, do wonders : and those that
have professed arms but for an age, have notwith-

S2S Essays, Civil and Moral.

standing commonly attained that greatness in that age,
which maintained them long after, when their pro-
fession and exercise of arms hath grown to decay.

Incident to this point is, for a state to have those
laws or customs, which may reach forth unto them
just occasions, as may he pretended, of war. For
there is that justice imprinted in the nature of men,
that they enter not upon wars, whereof so many cala-
mities do ensue, but upon some, at the least specious,
grounds and quarrels. The Turk hath at hand, for
cause of war, the propagation of his law or sect; a
quarrel that he may always command. The Romans
though they esteemed the extending the limits of their
empire to be great honour to their generals, when it
was done ; yet they never rested upon that alone to
begin a war. First therefore, let nations that pre-
tend to greatness have this, that they be sensible of
wrongs, either upon borderers, merchants, or politic
ministers ; and that they sit not too long upon a pro-
vocation. Secondly, let them be prest, and ready to
give aids and succours to their confederates ; as it ever
was with the Romans : insomuch, as if the confede-
rate had leagues defensive with divers other states,
and upon invasion offered, did implore their aids se-
verally, yet the Romans would ever be the foremost,
and leave it to none other to have the honour. As for
the wars, which were anciently made on the behalf of
a kind of party, or tacit conformity of estate, I do
not see how they may be well justified; as when the
Romans made a war for the liberty of Gra:cia ; or
when the Lacedemonians and Athenians made wars,
to set up or pull down democracies and oligarchies;
or when wars were made by foreigners, under the
pretence of justice or protection, to deliver the sub-
jects of others from tyranny and oppression ; and the
Jike. Let it suffice, that no estate expect to be great,
that is not awake upon any just occasion of arming.

No body can be healthful without exercise, neither
natural body nor politic: and certainly, to a kingdom
or estate, a just and honourable war is the true exer-
cise. A civil war, indeed, is like the heat of a fever j

Essays, Civil and Moral. 32$

but a foreign war is like the heat of exercise, and
serveth to keep the body in health. For in a sloth-
ful peace, both courages will effeminate, and man-
ners corrupt. But howsoever it be for happiness,
without all question, for greatness it maketh, to be
still, for the most part, in arms : and the strength of
a veteran army, though it be a chargeable business,
always on foot, is that which commonly giveth the
law, or at least the reputation amongst all neighbour
states, as may well be seen in Spain; which hath had,
in one part or other, a veteran army, almost continu-
ally, now by the space of six-score years.

To be master of the sea, is an abridgment of a mo-
narchy. Cicero writing to Atticus, of Pompey his
preparation against Caesar, saith, Consilium Pompeii
plane Tlicmistodeum est ; putat enim, qid mari potitur,
eum rerinn potiri. And without doubt Pompey had
tired out Cassar, if upon vain confidence he had not
left that way. We see the great effects of battles by
sea. The battle of Actium decided the empire of the
world. The battle of Lepanto arrested the greatness
of the Turk. There be many examples, where sea
fights have been final to the war; but this is, when
princes or states have set up their rest upon the baf^
ties. But thus much is certain ; that he that com-
mands the sea, is at great liberty, and may take as
much and as little of the war as he will. Whereas those
that be strongest by land are many times, neverthe-
less, in great straits. Surely, at this day, with us of
Europe, the vantage of strength at sea, which is one
of the principal dowries of this kingdom of Great Bri-
tain, is great : both because most of the kingdoms of
Europe are not merely inland, but girt with the sea,
most part of their compass ; and because the wealth of
both Indies seems in great part but an accessary to
the command of the seas.

The wars of latter ages seem to be made in the dark,
in respect of the glory and honour which reflected
upon men from the wars in ancient time. There be
now, for martial encouragement, some degrees and
orders of chivalry, which nevertheless are conferred

330 Essays, Civil and Moral.

promiscuously upon soldiers and no soldiers; and some
remembrance perhaps upon the escutcheon, and some
hospitals for maimed soldiers, and such like things.
But in ancient times, the trophies erected upon the
place of the victory ; the funeral laudatives and mo-
numents for those that died in the wars ; the crowns
and garlands personal ; the stile of emperor, which
the great kings of the world after borrowed; the tri-
umphs of the generals upon their return ; the great
donatives and largesses upon the disbanding of the
armies, were things able to inflame all mens cou-
rages, but above all, that of the triumph, among the
Romans, was not pageants or gaudery, but one of the
wisest and noblest institutions that ever was. For it
contained three things ; honour to the general ; riches
to the treasury, out of the spoils; and donatives to the
army. But that honour, perhaps, were not fit for
monarchies; except it be in the person of the mo-
narch himself, or his sons ; as it came to pass in the
times of the Roman emperors, who did appropriate the
actual triumphs to themselves and their sons, for such
wars as they did atchieve in person ; and left only,
for wars atchieved by subjects, some triumphal gar-
ments and ensigns to the general.

To conclude : no man can, by care taking, as the
Scripture saith, add a cubit to his stature, in this little
model of a man's body : but in the great frame of
kingdoms and common-wealths, it is in the power of
princes or estates, to add amplitude and greatness to
their kingdoms. For by introducing such ordinances,
constitutions and customs, as we have now touched,
they may sow greatness to their posterity and succes-
sion. But these things are commonly not observed,
but left to take their chance.

XXX. Of REGIMEN of HEALTH.

THERE is a wisdom in this beyond the rules of
physic : a man's own observation, what he finds good
of, and what he finds hurt of, is the best physic to
preserve health. But it is a safer conclusion to say
this, " This agrecth not well with me, therefore .1

Essays, Civil and Moral. 331

" will not continue it ;" than this, " I find no offence
" of this, therefore I may use it." For strength of
nature in youth passeth over many excesses, which
are owing a man till his age. Discern of the coming
on of years, and thing not to do the same things still ;
for age will not be defied. Beware of sud Jen change
in any great point of diet, and if necessity enforce it,
fit the rest to it. Fur it is a secret both in nature and
state, that it is safer to change many things than
one. Examine thy customs of diet, sleep, exercise,
apparel, and the like ; and try in any thing thou shalt
judge hurtful, to discontinue it by little and little ;
but so, as if thou dost find any inconvenience by the
change, thou come back to it again; for it is hard to
distinguish that which is generally held good and
wholsome, from that which is good particularly, and
fit for thine own body. To be free-minded and cheer-
fully disposed, at hours of meat, and of sleep, and of
exercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting.
As for the passions and studies of the mind, avoid
envy, anxious fears, anger, fretting inwards, subtle
and knotty inquisitions, joys and exhilirations in ex-
cess, sadness not communicated. Entertain hopes,
mirth rather than joy, variety of delights rather than
surfeit of them; wonder and admiration, and therefore
novelties ; studies that fill the mind with splendid and
illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contempla-
tions of nature. If you fly physic in health altoge-
ther, it will be too strange for your body when you
shall need it. If you make it too familiar, it will work
no extraordinary effect when sickness cometh. I
commend rather some diet for certain seasons, than
frequent use of physic, except it be grown into a cus-
tom. For those diets alter the body more, and trou-
ble it less. Despise no new accident in your body,
butr ask opinion of it. In sickness respect health
principally: and in health, action. For those that
put their bodies to endure in health, may in most sick-
nesses, which are not very sharp, be cured only with
diet and tendering. Celsus could never have spoken
it as a physician, had he not been a wise man withal ;

Essays, Civil and Moral.

when he givcth it for one of the great precepts of
health and lasting, that a man do vary and inter-
change contraries ; but with an inclination to the
more benign extreme. Use fasting and full eating,
but rather full eating; watching and sleep, but ra-
ther sleep ; sitting and exercise, but rather exercise,
and the like. So shall nature be cherished, and yet
taught masteries. Physicians are some of them so
pleasing and conformable to the humour of the patient,
as they press not the true cure of the disease ; and
some other are so regular in proceeding according to
art for the disease, as they respect not sufficiently the
condition of the patient. Take one of a middle tem-
per ; or if it may not be found in one man, combine
two of either sort; and forget not to call as well the
best acquainted with your body, as the best reputed of
for his faculty.

XXXI. QT SUSPICION.

SUSPICIONS amongst thoughts, are like bats
amongst birds, they ever fly by twilight. Certainly
they are to be repressed, or at the least well guarded :
for they cloud the mind, they lose friends, and they
check with business, whereby business cannot go on
currently and constantly. They dispose kings to tyran-
ny, husbands to jealousy, wise men to irresolution and
melancholy. They are defects not in the heart, but
In the brain ; for they take place in the stoutest na-
tures; as in the example of Henry the Seventh, of
England; there was not a more suspicious man, nor a
more stout. And in such a composition they do
small hurt. For commonly they are not admitted but
with examination, whether they be likely or no ? But
in fearful natures they gain ground too fast. There
is nothing makes a man suspect much, more than to
know little : and therefore men should remedy suspi-
cion, by procuring to know more, and not to keep
their suspicions in smother. What would men have?
Do they think those they employ and deal with are
saints? Do they not think they will have their own
ends, and be truer to themselves than to them ? There-

Essays, Civil and Moral. 333

fore there is no better way to moderate suspicions,
than to account upon such suspicions as true, and yet
to bridle them as false: for so far a man ought to
make use of suspicions, as to provide, as if that should
be true that he suspects, yet it may do him no hurt.
Suspicions that the mind of itself gathers are but buz-
zes; but suspicions that are artificially nourished, and
put into mens heads by the tales and whisperings of
others, have stings. Certainly the best mean to clear
the way in this same wood of suspicions, is frankly to
communicate them with the party that he suspects ;
for thereby he shall be sure to know more of the truth
of them than he did before ; and withal shall make
that party more circumspect not to give farther cause
of suspicion. But this should not be done to men of
base natures : for they, if they find themselves once
suspected, will never be true. The Italian says, Sos~
petto licentia fede ; as if suspicion did give a passport
to faith ; but it ought rather to kindle it to discharge
itself.

XXXII. Of DISCOURSE.

SOME in their discourse desire rather commenda-
tion of wit, in being able to hold all arguments, than
of judgment in discerning what is true; as if it were
a praise to know what might be said, and not what
should be thought. Some have certain common-
places and themes, wherein they are good, and want
variety : which kind of poverty is for the most part
tedious, and, when it is once perceived, ridiculous.
The honourablest part of talk is to give the occasion ;
and again, to moderate, and pass to somewhat else;
for then a man leads the dance. It is good in dis-
course and speech of conversation to varv, and inter-
mingle speech of the present occasion with argu-
ments ; tales with reasons ; asking of questions with
tellingof opinions; and jest with earnest : for it is a
dull thing to tire, and, as we say now, to jade any
thing too far. As for jest, there be certain things
which ought to be privileged from it; namely, reli-
gion, matters of state, great persons, any man's present

Essays, Civil and Moral.

business of importance, and any case that deserveth
pity. Yet there be some that think their wits have
been asleep, except they dart out somewhat that is
piquant, and to the quick : that is a vein which should
be bridled;

Parce puer stimidisy et for tins liter e lor is.
And generally men ought to find the difference be-
tween saltness and bitterness. Certainly he that hath
a satirical vein, as he maketh others afraid of his wit,
so he had need be afraid of others memory. He that
questioneth much shall learn much, and content
much ; but especially if he apply his questions to the
skill of the persons whom he asketh: for he shall give
them occasion to please themselves in speaking, and
himself shall continually gather knowledge. "But let
his questions not be troublesome, for that is fit for a
poser. And let him be sure to leave other men their
turns to speak. Nay, if there be any that would
reign, and take up all the time, let him find means to
take them off, and to bring others on; as musicians
use to do with those that dance too long galliards. If
you dissemble sometimes your knowledge of that you
are thought to know, you shall be thought another
time to know what you know not. Speech of a man's
self ought to be seldom, and well chosen. I knew
one was wont to say in scorn, " He must needs
" be a wise man, he speaks so much of himself:" and
there is but one case wherein a man may commend
himself with good grace, and that is in commending
virtue in another ; especially if it be such a virtue
whereunto himself pretendeth. Speech of touch to-
wards others should be sparingly used : for discourse
ought to be as a field, without coming home to any
man. I knew two noblemen of the west part of Eng-
land, whereof the one was given to scoff, but kept
ever royal cheer in his house ; the other would
ask of those that had been at the other's table,
" Tell truly, was there never a flout or dry blow
" given?" To which the guest would answer, Such
and such a thing passed. Tne lord would say, l( I
" thought he would mar a good dinner.'1 Discretion

Essays, Civil and Moral. 33$

of speech is more than eloquence ; and to speak
agreeably to him with whom we deal, is more than
to speak in good words, or in good order. A good
continued speech, without a good speech of interlo-
cution, shews slowness : and a good reply, or second
speech, without a good settled speech, sheweth shal-
lowness and weakness. As we see in beasts, that
those that are weakest in the course, are yet nimblest
in the turn : as it is betwixt the greyhound and the
hare. To use too many circumstances ere one come
to the matter, is wearisome 3 to use none at all, is
blunt.

XXXIII. Of PLANTATIONS.

PLANTATIONS are amongst ancient, primitive,
and heroical works. When the world was young, it
begat more children ; but now it is old, it begets
fewer: for I may justly account new plantations to
be the children of former kingdoms. I like a planta-
tion in a pure soil ; that is, where people are not dis-
planted to the end to plant in others. For else it is
rather an extirpation, than a plantation. Planting
of countries is like planting of woods; for you must
make account to lose almost twenty years profit, and
expect your recompence in the end. For the princi-
pal thing that hath been the destruction of most plan-
tations, hath been the base and hasty drawing of pro-
fit in the first years. It is true, speedy profit is not to
be neglected, as far as may stand with the good of
the plantation, but no farther. It is a shameful and
unblessed thing, to take the scum of people, and
wicked condemned men, to be the people with whom
you plant ; and not only so, but it spoileth the planta-
tion ; for they will ever live like rogues, and not fall
to work, but be lazy, and do mischief, and spend vic-
tuals, and be quickly weary, and then certify over to
their country to the discredit of the plantation. The
people wherewith you plant ought to be gardeners,
ploughmen, labourers, smiths, carpenters, joiners,
fishermen, fowlers, with some few apothecaries, sur-
geons, cooks, and bakers, In a country of planta*

336 Essays, Civil and Moral.

Iron, first look about what kind of victual the coun-
try yields of itself to hand ; as chestnuts, walnuts,
pine-apples, olives, dates, plumbs, cherries, wild ho-
ney, and the like, and make use of them. Then
consider what victual or esculent things there are,
which grow speedily and within the year ; as parsnips,
carrots, turnips, onions, radishes, artichokes of
Jerusalem, maiz, and the like. For wheat, barley,
and oats, they ask too much labour : but with peas
and beans you may begin; both because they ask less
labour, and because they serve for meat, as well as
for bread. And of rice likewise cometh a great in-
crease, and it is a kind of meat. Above all, there
ought to be brought store of biscuit, oatmeal, flour,
meal, and the like, in the beginning, till bread may be
had. For beasts or birds, take chiefly such as are
least subject to diseases, and multiply fastest : as
swine, goats, cocks, hens, turkeys, geese, house-
doves, and the like. The victual in plantations
ought to be expended almost as in a besieged town ;
that is with certain allowance. And let the main
part of the ground employed to gardens or corn be
to a common stock ; and to be laid in, and stored up,
and then delivered out in proportion ; besides some
spots of ground that any particular person will ma-
nure for his own private. Consider likewise what
commodities the soil where the plantation is doth na-
turally yield, that they may some way help to defray
the charge of the plantation : so it be not, as was said,
to the untimely prejudice of the main business; as it
hath fared with tobacco, in Virginia. Wood com-
monly aboundeth but too much: and therefore tim-
ber is fit to be one. If there be iron ore, and
streams whereupon to set the mills ; iron is a brave
commodity where wood aboundeth. Making of
bay-salt, if the climate be proper for it, should be put
in experience. Growing-silk likewise, if any be, is a
likely commodity. Pitch and tar, where store of firs
and pines are, will not fail. So drugs and sweet
woods, where they are, cannot but yield great profit.
Soap-ashes, likewise, and other things that may be

Essays, -Civil and Moral. S 37

thought of. But moil not too much under ground $
for the hope of mines is very uncertain, and useth to
make the planters lazy in other things. For govern-
ment, let it be in the hands of one assisted with some
counsel : and let them have commission to exercise
martial laws with some limitation. And above all,
let men make that profit of being in the wilderness, as
they have God always, and his service, before their
eyes. Let not the government of the plantation de-
pend upon too many counsellors and undertakers in
the country that planteth, but upon a temperate num-
ber; and let those be rather noblemen and gentle-
men, than merchants; for they look ever to the pre-
sent gain. Let there be freedoms from custom, till
the plantation be of strength : and not only freedom
from custom, but freedom to carry their commodities
where they may make their best of them, except there
be some special cause of caution. Cram not in peo-
ple, by sending too fast, company after company ; but
rather hearken how they waste, and send supplies pro-
portionably ; but so as the number may live well in
the plantation, and not by surcharge be in penury.
It hath been a great endangering to the health of some
plantations, that they have built along the sea and
rivers, in marish and unwholesome grounds. Therefore
though you begin there to avoid carriage, and other
like discommodities, yet build still rather upwards
from the streams, than along. It concerneth likewise
the health of the plantation, that they have good store
of salt with .them, that they may use it in their victuals
when it shall be necessary. If you plant where savages
are, do not only entertain them with trifles and gingles;
but use them justly and graciously, with sufficient
guard nevertheless: and do not win their favour by
helping them to invade their enemies ; but for their
defence it is not amiss. And send oft of them over
to the country that plants, that they may see a better
condition than their own, and commend it when they
return. When the plantation grows to strength, then
it is time to plant with women, as well as with men ;
that the plantation may spread into generations ; and

VOL, II. Z

33S Essays, Civil and Moral

not be £ver pieced from without. It is the sinfullest
thing in the world to forsake or destitute a planta-
* tion once in forwardness : for besides the dishonour, it
is the guiltiness of blood of many commiserable
persons.

XXXIV. Of RICHES.

I CANNOT call riches better than the baggage
of virtue. The Roman word is better, impedimenta.
For as the baggage is to an army, so are riches to vir-
tue. It cannot be spared, nor left behind, but it hin-
dereth the march ^ yea, and the care of it sometimes
loseth or disturbeth the victory : of great riches there
is no real use, except it be in the distribution ; the
rest is but conceit. So saith Solomon ; Where muck
is, there are many to consume it ; and what hath the
owner, but the sight of it witli his eyes ? The personal
fruition in any man, cannot reach to feel great riches :
there is a custody of them ; or a power of dole and
donative of them ; or a fame of them ; but no solid
use to the owner. Do you not see what feigned prices
are set upon little stones and rarities? And what
works of ostentation are undertaken, because there
might seem to be some use of great riches ? But then
you will say, they may be of use, to buy men out of
dangers or troubles. As Solomon saith, Riches are
as a strong hold in the imagination of the rich man. But
this is excellently expressed, that it is in imagination,
and not always in fact. For certainly great riches
have sold more men than they have bought out. Seek
not proud riches, but such as thou mayest get justly,
use soberly, distribute cheerfully, and leave content-
edly. Yet have no abstract nor friarly contempt of
them: but distinguish, -as Cicero saith well of Rabi-
rius Posthumus; in studio ret ampli/icandaj apparebat,
non avarititf Jmcclam, sed instnunentum bonitali quwi.
Hearken also to Solomon, and beware of hasty gather-
ing of riches: Qui fcst inat ad drcitias, non erit insons.
The poets feign, that when Plutus, which is riches, is
sent from Jupiter, he limps, and goes slowly; but
when he is sent from Vluto, he runs, and is swift of

Essays, Civil and MoraL 339.

foot : meaning that riches gotten by good means and
iust labour, pace slowly ; but when they come by the
death of others, as by the course of inheritance, testa-
ments, and the like, they come tumbling upon a man*
i>,ii it might be applied likewise to Pluto, taking him
for the devil. For when riches come trom the devil,
as by fraud and oppression, and unjust means, they
come upon speed. The ways to enrich are many, and
most of them foul. Parsimony is one ot the best, and
yet is not innocent: for it withholdeth men from
works of liberality and charity. The improvement of
the ground is the most natural obtaining of riches ; for
it is our great mother's blessing, the earth's ; but it is
slow. And yet, where men of great wealth do stoop
to husbandry, it multiplieth riches exceedingly. I
knew a nobleman in England that had the greatest
audits of any man fn my time; a great grazier, a great
sheep-master, a great timber-man, a great collier, a
great corn-master, a great lead-man ; and so of iron,
and a number of the like points of husbandry : so as
the earth seemed a sea to him, in respect of the per-
petual importation. It was truly observed by one,
that himself came very hardly to a little riches, and
very easily to great riches. For when a man's stock
is come to that, that he can expect the prime of mar-
kets, and overcome those bargains, which for their
greatness are few mens money, and be partner in the
industries ot younger men, he cannot but increase
mainly. The gains of ordinary trades and vocations
are honest, and furthered by two things, chiefly, by
diligence, and by a good name for good and fair deal-
ing. But the gains of bargains are of a more doubt-
ful nature, when men should wait upon others neces-
sity ; broke by servants and instruments to draw them
on; put off others cunningly that would be better
chapmen, and the like practices, which are crafty and
naught. As for the chopping of bargains, when a
man buys, not to hold, but to sell over again, that
commonly grindeth double, both upon the seller, and
upon the buyer. Sharings do greatly enrich, if the
hands be well chosen that are trusted. Usury is the

2 2

S40 Essays, Civil and Moral.

certainest means of gain, though one of the worst, as
that whereby a man doth eat his bread in sudore vultus
alieni; and besides, doth plough upon Sundays. But
yet certain though it be, it hath flaws; for that the
scriveners and brokers do value unsound men, to
serve their own turn. The fortune in being the first
in an invention, or in a privilege, doth cause some-
times a wonderful overgrowth in riches; as it was
with the first sugar-man in the Canaries. Therefore,
if a man can play the true logician, to have as well
judgment as invention, he may do great matters, espe-
cially if the times be fit. He that resteth upon gains
certain, shall hardly grow to great riches. And he
that puts all upon adventures, doth oftentimes break
and come to poverty : it is good therefore to guard
adventures with certainties that may uphold losses.
Monopolies and co-emption of wares or resale, where
they are not restrained, are great means to enrich ;
especially if the party have intelligence what things
are like to come into request, and so store himself be-
forehand. Riches gotten by service, though it be of
the best rise, yet when they are gotten by flattery,
feeding humours, and other servile conditions, they
may be placed amongst the worst. As for fishing for
testaments and executorships, as Tacitus saith of Se-
neca, Testamenta et orbos tanquam indagine capt, it is
yet worse ; by how much men submit themselves to
meaner persons, than in service. Believe not much
them that seem to despise riches ; for they despise
them that despair of them: and none worse when
they come to them. Be not penny-wise ; riches
have wings, and sometimes they fly away of them-
selves, sometimes they must be set flying to bring in
more. Men leave their riches either to their kindred,
or to the public : and moderate portions prosper best
in both. A great estate left to an heir, is as a lure to
all the birds of prey round about, to seize on him, if he
be not the better established in years and judgment.
Likewise glorious gifts and foundations, are like sacri-
fices without salt; and but the painted sepulchres of
alms, which soon will -putriry and corrupt inwardly.

Essays, Civil and Moral. 341

Therefore measure not thine advancements by quan-
tity, but frame them by measure; and defer not cha-
rities till death : for certainly, if a man weigh it
rightly, he that doth so, is rather liberal of another
man's than of his own.

XXXV. Of PROPHECIES.

I MEAN not to speak of divine prophecies, nor of
heathen oracles, nor of natural predictions ; but only
of prophecies that have been or certain memory, and
from hidden causes. Saith the Pythonissa to Saul ;
To-morrow thon and thy son shall be with me. Virgil
hath these verses from Homer :

At domus JEnea cunctis dominabitur oris,
Et nati natorum, et qui nascentur ab illis.

^Eneid. Hi. 97.

A prophecy, as it seems, of the Roman empire. Se-
neca the Tragedian hath these verses :
Venient annis

Secula seris, quibus oceanus

Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens

Pateat tellus, Tiphysque novos

Detegat orbes ; nee sit terris

Ultima Thule :

A prophecy of the discovery of America. The
daughter of Polycrates dreamed, that Jupiter bathed
her father, and Apollo anointed him : and it came to
pass that he was crucified in an open place, where the
sun made his body run with sweat, and the rain
washed it. Philip of Macedon dreamed he sealed
up his wife 's belly ; whereby he did expound it, that
his wife should be barren ; but Aristander the sooth-
sayer told him, his wife was with child : because men
do not use to seal vessels that are empty. A phan-
tasm that appeared to M. Brutus, in his tent, said to
him, Philippis iterum me videbis. Tiberius said to
Galba, Tu quoque^ Galba, degiistabis imperium. In
Vespasian's time there went a prophecy in the east,
that those that should come forth of Judaea, should
reign over the world -3 which though it may be was
meant of our Saviour, yet Tacitus expounds it of

$42 Essays, Civil and Moral.

Vespasian. Domitian dreamed the night before lie
was slain, that a golden head was growing out of the
nape of his neck : and indeed the succession that
followed him, for many years, made golden times,
Henry the sixth of England said of Henry the seventh,
when he was a lad, and gave him water; "This is the
" lad that shall enjoy the crown for which we
" strive." When I was in France, I heard from one
Dr. Pena, that the queen-mother, who was given to
curious arts, caused the king her husband's nativity
to be calculated under a false name ; and the astro-
loger gave a judgment, that he should be killed in a
duel; at which the queen laughed, thinking her
husband to be above challenges and duels: but he
was slain, upon a course at tilt, the splinters of the
staff of Montgomery going in at his beaver. The
trivial prophecy which I heard when I \vas a child,
and queen Elizabeth was in the flower of her years,

When Hempe Is sponnc,
d'* donne.

Whereby it was generally conceived, that after the
princes had reigned, which had the principal letters
of that word Hempe, which were Henry, Edward,
Alary, Philip, and Elizabeth, England should come
to utter confusion ; which, thanks be to God, is ve-
rified only in the change of the name, for that the
king's style is now no more of England, but of
Britain. There was also another prophecy before the
year of eighty-eight, which I do not well understand :
There shall be seen upon a day,
Between the bau^h and the Mayy
The black Jleet of Noncau.
When that is come and gone,
England build houses of lime and stone,
For after icars shall you hare none.

It was generally conceived to be meant of the Spanish
fleet that came in eighty-eight. For that the king of
Spain's surname, as they say, is Norway. The pre-
diction of Regiomontanus,

Qctogesimus octavus mirabilis annus ;

Essays, Civil and Moral. .343

was thought likewise accomplished, in the sending
of that great fleet, being the greatest in strength,
though not in number, of all that ever swam upon the
sea. As for CJeon's dream, I think it was a jest : it
was, that he was devoured of a long dragon ; and it
was expounded of a maker of sausages that troubled
him exceedingly. There are numbers of the like
kind ; especially if you include dreams, and predic-
tions of astrology. But I have set down these few
only of certain credit, for example. My judgment is,
that they ought all to be despised, and ought to serve
but for winter-talk by the fire-side. Though when I
say de'spised, I mean it as for belief: for otherwise,
the spreading or publishing of them, is in no sort to
be despised ; for they have done much mischief. And
I see many severe laws made to suppress them. What
hath given them grace, and some credit, consisteth in
three things : first, that men mark when they hit, and
never mark when they miss; as they do, generally,
also of dreams. The second is, that probable con-
jectures, or obscure traditions, many times, turn
themselves into prophecies: while the nature of man,
which coveteth divination, thinks it no peril to fore-
tel that, which indeed they do but collect ; as that
of Seneca's verse. For so much was then subject to
demonstration, that the globe of the earth had great
parts beyond the Atlantic, which might be probably
conceived not to be all sea : and adding thereto, the
tradition in Plato's Timaws, and his Atlanticu^ it
might encourage one to turn it to a prediction. The
third and last, which is the great one, is, that almost
all of them, being infinite in number, have been im-
postures, and by idle and crafty .brains, merely con-
trived and feigned after the event past.

XXXVI. Of AMBITION.

AMBITION is like choler, which is an humour
that maketh men active, earnest, full of alacrity, and
stirring, if it be not stopped. But if it be stopped,
and cannot have its way, it becometh adust, and
thereby malign and venomous. So ambitious men^ if

344 Essays, Civil and Moral.

they find the way open for their rising, and still get
forward, they are rather busy than dangerous ; but if
they be checked in their desires, they become secretly
discontent, and look upon men and matters with
an evil eye, and are best pleased when things go
backward ; which is the worst property in a servant
of a prince or state. Therefore it is good for princes,
if they use ambitious men, to handle it so, as they be
still progressive, and not retrograde ; which, because
it cannot be without inconvenience, it is good not
to use such natures at all. For if they rise not with
their service, they will take order to make their
service fall with them. But since we have said it
were good not to use men of ambitious natures, ex-
cept it be upon necessity, it is fit we speak, in what
cases they are of necessity. Good commanders in the
wars must be taken; be they never so ambitious : for
the use of their service dispenseth with the rest ; and
to take a soldier without ambition, is to pull off his
spurs. There is also great use of ambitious men in
being screens to princes, in matters of danger and
envy : for no man will take that part, except he be
like a seeled dove, that mounts, and mounts, because
he cannot see about him. There is use also of am-
bitious men in pulling down the greatness of any
subject that over-tops; as Tiberius used Macro in
the pulling down of Sejanus. Since therefore they
must be used in such cases, there resteth to speak how
they are to be bridled, that they may be less dan-
gerous. There is less danger of them, if they be of
mean birth, than if they be noble ; and if they be
rather harsh of nature, than gracious and popular;
and if they be rather new raised, than grown cunning
and fortified in their greatness. It is counted by
some a weakness in princes to have favourites ; but
it is, of all others, the best remedy against ambitious
great ones. For when the way of pleasuring and dis-
pleasuring lieth by the favourite, it is impossible any
other should be over-great. Another means to curb
them, is to balance them by others as proud as they.:
But then there must be some middle counsellors ta

Essays, Civil and Moral. 345

keep things steady ; for without that ballast the ship
will roll too much. At the least a prince may ani^
mate and inure some meaner persons, to be as it
were scourges to ambitious men. As for the having
of them obnoxious to ruin, if they be of fearful na-
tures, it may do well : but if they be stout and daring,
it may precipitate their designs, and prove dangerous.
As for the pulling of them down, if the affairs require
it, and that it may not be done with safety suddenly,
the only way is, the interchange continually of favours
and disgraces, whereby they may not know what to
expect, and be as it were in a wood. Of ambitions,
it is less harmful the ambition to prevail in great
things, than that other to appear in every thing; for
that breeds confusion, and mars business: but yet it
is less danger to have an ambitious man stirring in
business, than great in dependences. He that seeketh
to be eminent amongst able men, hath a great task ;
but that is ever good for the public. But he that
plots to be the only figure amongst ciphers, is the
decay of a whole age. Honour hath three things in
it : the vantage ground to do good ; the approach to
kings and principal persons ; and the raising of a
man's own fortunes. He that hath the best of these
intentions, when he aspireth, is an honest man: and
that prince that can discern of these intentions in
another that aspireth, is a wise prince. Generally let
princes and states choose such ministers as are more
sensible of duty than of rising ; and such as love
business rather upon conscience, than upon bravery :
and let them discern a busy nature from a willing
mind.

XXXVIL Of MASKS and TRIUMPHS.

THESE things are but toys to come amongst such
serious observations. But yet, since princes will have
such things, it is better they should be graced with
elegancy, than daubed with cost. Dancing to song,
is a thing of great state and pleasure. I understand
it, that the song be in quire, placed aloft, and accom-
panied with some broken music : and the ditty fitted

346 Essays, Civil and Moral.

to the device. Acting in song, especially in dia-
logues, hath an extreme good grace ; I say acting,
not dancing, for that is a mean and vulgar thing, and
the voices of the dialogue should be strong and
manly, a base, and a tenor ; no treble, and the ditty
high and tragical ; not nice or dainty. Several quires
placed one over-against another, and taking the voice
by catches, anthem-wise, give great pleasure. Turn-
ing dances into figure, is a childish curiosity. And
generally let it be noted, that those things which I
here set down, are such as do naturally take the
sense, and not respect petty wonderments. It is true,
the alterations of scenes, so it be quietly and without
noise, are things of great beauty and pleasure ; for
they feed and relieve the eye before it be full of the
same object. Let the scenes abound with light,
specially coloured and varied : and let the maskers,
or any other that are to come down trom the scene,
have some motions upon the scene itself before their
coming down ; for it draws the eye strangely, and
makes" it with great pleasure to desire to see that
it cannot perfectly discern. Let the songs be loud
and chearful, and not chirpings or pulings. Let the
music likewise be sharp and loud, and well placed.
The colours that shew best by candle-light, are white,
carnation, and a kind of sea-water green ; and ouches,
or spangs, as they are of no great cost, so they are of
most glory. As for rich embroidery, it is lost, and
not discerned. Let the suits of the maskers be grace-
ful, and such as become the person when the vizard*
are off: not after examples of known attires \ turks,
soldiers, manners, and the like. Let anti-masks not
be long ; they have been commonly of fools, satyrs,
baboons, wild men, antics, beasts, spirits, witches,
ethiopes, pigmies, turquets, nymphs, rustics, cupids,
statues moving, and the like. As for angels, it is
not comical enough to put them in anti-masks ; and
any thing that is hideous, as devils, giants, is on the
other side as unfit : but chiefly let the music of them
be recreative, and with some strange changes. Some
sweet odours suddenly coming forth without any drops

Essay s> Civil and Moral. 347

falling, arc in such a company, as there is steam and
heat, things of great pleasure and refreshment. Dou-
ble masks, one of men, another of ladies, addeth
state and variety. But all is nothing except the room
be kept clear and neat.

For justs, and tourneys, and barriers, the glories of
them are chiefly in the chariots, wherein the challen-
gers make their entry ; especially if they be drawn
with strange beasts ; as lions, bears, camels, and the
like : or in the devices of their entrance, or in the bra-
very of their liveries : or in the goodly furniture of
their horses and armour. But enough of these toys.

XXXVIII. Of NATURE in MEN.

NATURE is often hidden, sometimes overcome,
seldom extinguished. Force maketh nature more
violent in the return ; doctrine and discourse maketh
nature less importune: but custom only doth alter and
subdue nature. He that seeketh victory over his na-
ture, let him not set himself too great, nor too small
tasks ; for the first will make him dejected by often
failings ; and the second will make him a small pro-
ceeder, though by often prevail ings. And at the
first, let him practise with helps, as swimmers do with
bladders or rushes : but after a time let him practise
with disadvantages, as dancers do with thick shoes.
For it breeds great perfection if the practice be harder
than the use. Where nature is mighty, and therefore
the victory hard, the degrees had need be, first to stay
and arrest nature in time; like to him that would say
over the four and twenty letters when he was angry :
then to go less in quantity; as if one should, in for-
bearing wine, come from drinking healths, to a
draught at a meal ; and lastly, to discontinue altoge-
ther. But if a man have the fortitude and resolu-
tion to enfranchise himself at once, that is the best.
Opiimus Hie animi v index, Itedentia pectus

Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semcl.
Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature as a
wand to a contrary extreme, whereby to set it right:
understanding it where the contrary extreme is no

348 Essays, Civil and Moral.

vice. Let not a man force a habit upon himself with
a perpetual continuance, but with some intermission.
For both the pause reinforceth the new onset ; and if
a man that is not perfect be ever in practice, he shall
as well practise his errors as his abilities, and induce
one habit of both ; and there is no means to help this
but by seasonable intermissions. But let not a man
trust his victory over his nature too far ; for nature
will lie buried a great time, and yet revive upon the
occasion or temptation. Like as it was with ^Esop's
damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who sat very
demurely at the board's end, till a mouse ran before
her. Therefore let a man either avoid the occasion
altogether, or put himself often to it, that he may be
little moved with it. A man's nature is best per-
ceived in privateness, for there is no affectation ; in
passion, for that putteth a man out of his precepts ;
and in a new case or experiment, for there custom
leaveth him. They are happy men, whose natures
sort with their vocations ; otherwise they may say,
Multum incolafidt anbna mea : when they converse in
those things they do not affect. In studies, whatsoever
a man commandeth upon himself, let him set hours
for it; but whatsoever is agreeable to his nature, let
him take no care for any set times ; for his thoughts
will fly to it of themselves^-so as the spaces of other
business or studies will suffice. A man's nature runs
either to herbs or weeds: Therefore let him season-
ably water the one, and destroy the other.

XXXIX. Q/* CUSTOM and EDUCATION.

MENS thoughts are much according to their incli-
nation; their discourse and speeches according to
their learning and infused opinions ; but their deeds
are after as they have been accustomed. And there-
fore, as Machiavel well noteth, though in an evil-fa-
voured instance, there is no trusting to the force of
nature, nor to the bravery of words, except it be
corroborated by custom. His instance is, that for the
atchieving of a desperate conspiracy, a man should not
rest upon the fierceness of any man's nature, or his

Essays, Civil and Moral. 849

resolute undertakings ; but take such an one as hath
had his hands formerly in blood. But Machiavel knew
not of a friar Clement, nor a Ravillac, nor a Jauregny,
nor a Baltazar Gerard : yet his rule holdeth still, that
nature, nor the engagement of words, are not so for-
cible as custom. Only superstition is now so well ad-
vanced, that men of the first blood are as firm as but-
chers by occupation : and votary resolution is made
equipollent to custom, even in matter of blood. In
other things, the predominancy of custom is every
where visible ; insomuch as a man would wonder to
hear men profess, protest, engage, give great words,
and then do just as they have done before : as if they
were dead images, and engines moved only by the
wheels of custom. We see also the reign or tyranny
of custom what it is. The Indians, I mean the sect
of their wise men, lay themselves quietly upon a stack
of wood, and so sacrifice themselves by fire. Nay, the
wives strive to be burned with the corps of their hus-
bands. The lads of Sparta, of ancient time, were
wont to be scourged upon the altar of Diana, without
so much as wincing. I remember in the beginning
of queen Elizabeth's time of England, an Irish rebel
condemned put up a petition to the deputy, that he
might be hanged in a with, and not in an halter, be-
cause it had been so used with former rebels. There
be monks in Russia, for penance, that will sit a whole
night in a vessel of water, till they be engaged with
hard ice. Many examples may be put of the force of
custom, both upon mind and body. Therefore since
custom is the principal magistrate of man's life, let men
by all means endeavour to obtain good customs. Cer-
tainly custom is most perfect, when it beginneth in
young years : this we call education, which is, in
effect, but an early custom. So we see in languages,
the tongue is more pliant to all expressions and sounds,
the joints are more supple to all feats of activity and
motions, in youth than afterwards. For it is true,
that late learners cannot so well take the ply, except
it be 'in some minds that have not suffered themselves
ip fix, but have kept, themselves open and prepared to

350 Essays, Civil and Moral.

receive continual amendment, which is exceeding
rare. But if the force of custom simple and separate
be great ; the force of custom copulate and conjoined,
and collegiate, is far greater. For there example
teacheth, company comforteth, emulation quicken-
eth, glory raiscth: so as in such places the force of cus-
torn is in its exaltation. Certainly the great multi-
plication of virtues upon human nature, resteth upon
societies well ordained and disciplined. For com-
monwealths and good governments do nourish virtue
grown, but do not much mend the seeds. But the
misery is, that the most effectual means are now ap-
plied to the ends least to be desired.

XL. Of FORTUNE.

IT cannot be denied but outward accidents con-
duce much to fortune : favour, opportuity, death of
others, occasion fitting virtue. But chiefly, the mold
of a man's fortune is in his own hands. Faber qitis*
quc fortune su<£ ; saith the poet. And the most fre-
quent of external causes is, that the folly of one man
is the fortune of another. For no man prospers so
suddenly as by others errors. Serpens nisi serpent tin
comederit non fit draco. Overt and apparent virtues
bring forth praise ; but there be secret and hidden
virtues that bring forth fortune : certain deliveries of
a man's self, which have no name. The Spanish
name, dtsemboltura, partly expresseth them : when
there be not stonds, nor restiveness in a man's na-
ture ; but that the wheels of his mind keep way with
the wheels of his fortune. For so Livy, after he had
described Cato Major in these words; in illo viro, tan-
turn robor corporis et animifidt, ut qnocunqiie Loco natus
essetyfortunamsibifacturusvideretur > faileth upon that,
that he had versatile ingenium. Therefore if a man look
sharply and attentively, he shall see fortune : for though
she be blind, yet she is not invisible. The way of for-
tune is like the milky way in the sky ; which is a
meeting or knot of a number of small stars, not seen
asunder, but giving light together. So are there a
number of little and scarce discerned virtues, or rather

Essays, Civil and Moral.

faculties and customs, that make men fortunate. The!
Italians note some of them, such as a man would little
think. When they speak of one that cannot do amiss,
they will throw in into his other conditions, that he
hath Poco di matto. And certainly there be not two
more fortunate properties, than to have a little of the
fool, and not too much of the honest. Therefore ex-
treme lovers of their country, or masters, were never
fortunate, neither can they be. For when a man
placeth his thoughts without himself, he goeth not
his own way. An hasty fortune maketh an enter-
priser and remover ; the French hath it better, entre-
prenant, or remuant, but the exercised fortune maketh
the able man. Fortune is to be honoured and respec-
ed, and it be but for her daughters, Confidence and
Reputation. For those two felicity breedeth : the
first within a man's self; the latter in others towards
him. All wise men, to decline the envy of their own
virtues, use to ascribe them to Providence and fortune ;
for so they may the better assume them : and besides,
it is greatness in a man to be the care of the higher
powers. So Caesar said to the Pilot in the tempest,
C<esarem portas, et fortiuiam ejus. So Sylla chose the
name offelix, and not of magnus : and it hath been
noted, that those that ascribe openly too much to
their own wisdom and policy, end unfortunate. It
is written, that Timotheus the Athenian, after he had
in the account he gave to the state of his government,
often interlaced this speech, " And in this fortune
" had no part ;" never prospered in any thing he un-
dertook afterwards. Certainly there be, whose for-
tunes are like Homer's verses, that have a slide and
easiness more than the verses of other poets : as Plu-
tarch saith of Timoleon's fortune, in respect of that
of Agesilaus or Epaminondas. And that this should
be, no doubt it is much in a man's self.

XLI. Of USURY.

. MANY have made witty invectives against usury.
They say, That it is pity the devil should have God's
part, which is the titlie. That the usurer is"

352 Essays, Civil and Moral.

greatest sabbath-breaker, because his plough goeth
every Sunday. That the usurer is the drone that Vir-
gil speaketh of:

Ignavum fitcos pecus £ prasepibus arcent.
That the usurer breaketh the first law that was made
for mankind after the fall ; which was, In sudore vultus
tui comedcs panem tuum s not, In sudore vultus alieni.
That usurers should have orange-tawney bonnets, be-
cause they do judaize. That it is against nature, for
money to beget money: and the like. I say this
only, that usury is a concessum propter durilwm cordis :
for since there must be borrowing and lending, and
men are so hard of heart as they will not lend freely,
usury must be permitted. Some others have made
suspicious and cunning propositions of banks, disco-
very of men's estates, and other inventions. But few
have spoken of usury usefully. It is good to set before
us the incommodities and commodities of usury ; that
the good may be either weighed out, or culled out ;
and warily to provide, that while we make forth to
that which is better, we meet not with that which is
worse.

The discommodities of usury are : first, that it
makes fewer merchants. For were it not for this lazy
trade of usury, money would not lie still, but would
in great part be employed upon merchandizing ; which
is the vcnapor-ta of wealth in a state. The second,
that it makes poor merchants. For as a farmer cannot
husband his ground so well, if he sit at a great rent ;
so the merchant cannot drive his trade so well, if he sit
at great usury. The third is incident to the other two -y
and that is> the decay of customs of kings or states,
which ebb or flow with merchandizing. The fourth,
that it bringeth the treasure of a realm or state into
a few hands. For the usurer being at certainties, and
others at uncertainties, at the end of the game most
of the money will be in the box ; and ever a state
flourisheth when wealth is more equally spread. The
fifth, that it beats down the price of land : for the em-
ployment of money is chiefly either merchandizing or
purchasing j and usury waylays both. The sixth, that

Essays, Civil and Moral. 353

it doth dull and damp all industries, improvements,
and new inventions, wherein money should be stir-
ing, if it were not for this slug. The last, that it is
the canker and ruin of many mens estates, which in
process of time breeds a public poverty.

On the other side, the commodities of usury are :
first, that howsoever usury in some respect hindereth
merchandizing, yet in some other it advanceth it ; for
it is certain that the greatest part of trade is driven
by young merchants, upon borrowing at interest ; so
as if the usurer either call in or keep back his money,
there will ensue presently a great stand of trade. The
second is, that were it not for this easy borrowing
upon interest, mens necessities would draw upon them
a most sudden undoing ; in that they would be forced
to sell their means, be it in lands or goods, far under
foot ; and so whereas usury doth but gnaw upon them,
bad markets would swallow them quite up. As for
mortgaging or pawning, it will little mend the matter;
for either men will not take pawns without use : or if
they do, they will look precisely for the forfeiture. I
remember a cruel moneyed man in the country, that
would say ; " The devil take this usury, it keeps us
" from forfeitures of mortgages and bonds." The
third and last is, that it is a vanity to conceive, that
there would be ordinary borrowing without profit ;
and it is impossible to conceive the number of in-
conveniences that will ensue, if borrowing be cramped.
Therefore to speak of the abolishing of usury is idle.
All states have ever had it in one kind or rate or other.
So as that opinion must be sent to Utopia.

To speak now of the reformation and reglement of
usury : how the discommodities of it may be best
avoided, and the commodities retained : it appears
by the balance of commodities and discommodities of
usury, two things are to be reconciled. The one, that
the tooth of usury be grinded that it bite not too
much : the other, that there be left open a means to
invite monied men to lend to the merchants, for the
continuing and quickening of trade. This cannot be
done, except you introduce two several sorts of usury,

VOL. II. A A

354 Essays, Civil and Moral.

a less and a greater. For if you reduce usury to one
low rate, it will ease the common borrower, but the
merchant will be to seek for money. And it is to be
noted, that the trade of merchandize being the most
lucrative, may bear usury at a good rate ; other con-
tracts not so.

To serve both intentions, the way should be briefly
thus. That there be two rates of usury ; the one free
and general for all ; the other under licence only to
Certain persons, and in certain places of merchandiz-
ing. First therefore let usury in general be reduced
to five in the hundred ; and let that rate be proclaim-
ed to be free and current ; and let the state shut itself
out to take any penalty for the same. This will pre-
serve borrowing from any general stop or dryness.
This will ease infinite borrowers in the country.
This will in good part raise the price of land, because
land purchased at sixteen years purchase, will yield
six in the hundred and somewhat more, whereas this
rate of interest yields but five. This by like reason
will encourage and edge industrious and profitable im-
provements ; because many will rather venture in that
kind, than take five in the hundred, especially having
been used to greater profit. Secondly, let there be
certain persons licensed to lend to known merchants,
upon usury at a higher rate : and let it be with the
cautions following. Let the rate be, even with the
merchant himself, somewhat more easy than that he
used formerly to pay : for by that means all borrowers
shall have some ease by this reformation, be he mer-
chant or whosoever. Let it be no bank or common
stock, but every man be master of his own money.
Not that I altogether mislike banks, but they will
hardly be brooked in regard of certain suspicions.
Let the state be answered some small matter for the
licence, and the rest left to the lender ; for if the abate-
ment be bui small, it will no whit discourage the
lender. For he, for example, that took before ten or
nine in the hundred, will sooner descend to eight in
the hundred, than give over his trade of usury ; and go
from certain gains, to gains of hazard. Let these Ji-

Essays, Civil and MoraL 355

censed lenders be in number indefinite, but restrained
to certain principal cities and towns of merchandize
ing : for then they will be hardly able to colour other
mens moneys in the country; so as the license of nine
will not suck away the current rate of five : for no man
will send his moneys far off, nor put them into un-
known hands.

If it be objected, that this doth in a sort authorise
usury, which before was in some places but permis-
sive : the answer is, that it is better to mitigate usury by
declaration, than to suffer it to rage by connivance.

XLII. Of YOUTH and AGE.
A MAN that is young in years, may be old in
hours, if he have lost no time. But that happeneth
rarely. Generally youth is like the first cogitations,
not so wise as the second. For there is a youth in
thoughts, as well as in ages* And yet the invention
of young men is more lively than that of old ; and ima-
ginations stream into their minds better, and as it
were more divinely. Natures that have much heat,
and great and violent desires and perturbations, are
not ripe for action, till they have passed the meridian
of their years : as it was with Julius Cassar, and Sep-
timius Severus. Of the latter of whom it is said, Ju-
ventutem egit error ibus, imo furoribus, plenam. And
yet he was the ablest emperor almost of all the list.
But reposed natures may do well in youth : as it is seen
in Augustus Caesar, Cosmus duke of Florence, Gaston
de Fois, and others. On the other side, heat and vi-
vacity in age is an excellent composition for business.
Young men are fitter to invent than to judge; fitter
for execution than for counsel ; and fitter for new
projects, than for settled business. For the experi-
ence of age, in things that fall within the compass of
it, directeth them; but in new things abuseth them.
The errors of young men are the ruin of business ;
but the errors of aged men amount but to this ; that
more might have been done, or sooner. Young men,
in the conduct and management of actions, embrace
than they can hold -, stir more than they can
A A 2

Essays j Civil and Moral.

quiet ; fly to the end, without consideration of the
means and degrees 5 pursue sonle few principles,
which they have chanced upon, absurdly ; care not to
innovate, which draws unknown inconveniences ; use
extreme remedies at first; and, that which doubleth
all errors, will not acknowledge or retract them ; like
an unready horse, that will neither stop nor turn. Men
of age object too much, consult too long, adventure
too little, repent too soon, and seldom drive business
home to the full period ; but content themselves with
a mediocrity of success. Certainly it is good to com-
pound employments of both ; for that will be good
for the present, because the virtues of either age may
correct the defects of bo'th : and good for succession,
that young men maybe learners, while men in age are
actors: and lastly, good for external accidents, be-
cause authority followeth old men, and favour and
popularity youth. But for the moral part, perhaps
youth will have the pre-eminence, as age hath for
the politic. A certain Rabbin upon the text, Your
young men shall see visions 9 and your old men shall
dream dreams; inferreth, that young men are admitted
nearer to God than old; because vision is a clearer re-
velation than a dream. And certainly, the more a
man drinketh of the world, the more it intoxicateth ;
and age doth profit rather in the powers of understand-
ing, than in the virtues of the will and affections. There
be some have an over-early ripeness in their years,
which fadeth betimes: these are first, such as have
brittle wits, the edge whereof is soon turned ; such
as was Hermogenes the rhetorician, whose books are
exceeding subtile ; who afterwards waxed stupid. A
second sort, is of those that have some natural dispo-
sitions which have better grace in youth than in age;
•such as is a fluent and luxuriant speech; which be-
comes youth well, but not age. So Tully saith of
Hortensius ; idem manebat, ncque idem decebat. The
third is, of such as take too high a strain at the first;
and are magnanimous, more than tract of years can
uphold. As was Scipio Africaniis, of whom Livy
>aith in- effect 3 ijUma-primi^cedebant. , ,«.

Essays, Civil and Mortil. 337

XLIII. Of BEAUTY.

VIRTUE is like a rich stone, best plain set : and
surely virtue is best in a body that is comely, though
not of delicate features; and that hath rather dignity
of presence, than beauty of aspect. Neither is it al-
most seen, that very beautiful persons are otherwise
of great virtue. As if nature were rather busy not to
err, than in labour to produce excellency. And there-
fore they prove accomplished, but not of great spirit;
and study rather behaviour than virtue. But this holds
not always; for Augustus Cassar, Titus Vespasianus,
Philip le Belle of France, Edward the fourth of Eng-
land, Alcibiades of Athens, Ismael the sophi of Per-
sia, were all high and great spirits; and yet the most
beautiful men of their times. In beauty, that of favour
is more than that of colour; and that of decent and
gracious motion more than that of favour. That is
the best part of beauty, which a picture cannot ex-
press ; no nor the first sight of the life. There is no
excellent beauty, that hath not some strangeness in
the proportion. A man cannot tell, whether Apelles
or Albert Durer were the more trifler; whereof the
one would make a personage by geometrical propor-
tions ; the other, by taking the best parts out of di-
vers faces, to make one excellent. Such personages,
I think, would please nobody but the painter that
made them. Not but I think a painter may make a
better face than ever was; but he must do it by a
kind of felicity, as a musician that maketh an excel-
lent air in music, and not by rule. A man shall see
faces, that if you examine them part by part, you shall
never find a good ; and yet altogether do well. If it
be true, that the principal part of beauty is in decent
motion, certainly, it is no marvel, though persons in
years seem many times more amiable ; pulchrarum
autumnus pidclicr : for no youth can be comely but by
pardon, and considering the youth, as to makeup the
comeliness. Beauty is as summer fruits, which are
easy to corrupt, and cannot last : and for the most part
it makes a dissolute youth, and an age a little out of

358 Essays, Civil and Moral.

countenance : but yet certainly again, if it light well,
it maketh virtues shine, and vices blush.

XLIV. Of DEFORMITY.

DEFORMED persons are commonly even with
nature ; for as nature hath done ill by them, so do
they by nature; being for the most part, as the Scrip-
ture saith, void of natural affection: and so they have
their revenge of nature. Certainly there is a consent
between the body and the mind, and where nature
erreth in the one, she ventureth in the other. Ubi
peccat in uno, periclitatur in altero. But because there
is ir man an election touching the frame of his mind,
and a necessity in the frame of his body, the stars of
natural inclination are sometimes obscured by the sun
of discipline and virtue : therefore it is good to consi-
der of deformity, not as a sign which is more deceiv-
able, but as a cause which seldom faileth of the effect.
Whosoever hath any thing fixed in his person that
doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in
himself, to rescue and deliver himself from scorn ;
therefore all deformed persons are extreme bold.
First, as in their own defence, as being exposed to
scorn ; but in process of time, by a general habit.
Also it stirreth in them industry, and especially of
this kind, to watch and observe the weakness of
others, that they may have somewhat to repay.
Again, in their superiors it quencheth jealousy to-
wards them, as persons that they think they may at
pleasure despise : and it layeth .their competitors and
emulators, asleep ; as never believing they should be
in possibility of advancement, till they see them in
possession. So that, upon the matter, in a great wit
deformity is an advantage to rising. Kings in ancient
times, and at this present, in some countries, were
wont to put great trust in eunuchs, because they that
are envious towards all, are more obnoxious and of-
ficious towards one. But yet their trust towards them
hath rather been as to good spials, and good whis-
perers, than good magistrates and officers. And
much like is the reason of deformed persons. Still

Essays, Civil and Moral.

the ground is, they will, if they be of spirit, seek to
free themselves from scorn ; which must be either by
virtue or malice. And therefore let it not: be mar-
velled, if sometimes they prove excellent persons ; as
was Agesilaus, Zanger the son of Solyman-, ^Esop,
Gasca president of I3eru ; and Socrates may go like-
wise amongst them, with others.

XLV. Of BUILDING.

HOUSES are built to live in, and not to look on ;
therefore let use be preferred before uniformity, ex-
cept where both may be had. Leave the goodly
fabrics of houses for beauty only, to the inchanted pa-
laces of the poets: who build them with small cost.
He that builds a fair house upon an ill seat, commit-
teth himself to prison. Neither do I reckon it an ill
seat only, where the air is unwholesome, but likewise
where the air is unequal ; as you shall see many fine
seats, set upon a knap of ground, environed with
higher hills round about it, whereby the heat of the
sun is pent in, and the wind gathereth as in troughs;
so as you shall have, and that suddenly, as great diver-
sity of heat and cold, as if you dwelt in several
places. Neither is it ill air only that maketh an ill seat;
but ill ways, ill markets ; and, if you will consult with
Momus, ill neighbours. I speak not of many more;
want of water, want of wood, shade, and shelter ;
want of fruitfulness, and mixture of grounds of several
natures ; want of prospect, want of level grounds ;
want of places at some near distance for sports of
hunting, hawking, and races^; too near the sea; too
remote ; having the commodity of navigable rivers,
or the discommodity of their overflowing ; too far off
from great cities, which may hinder business ; or too
near them, which lurcheth all provisions, and maketh
every thing dear; where a man hath a great living
laid together, and where he is scanted : all which, as
it is impossible, perhaps to find together, so it is good
to know them, and think of them, that a man may
take as many as he can : and if he have several dwel-
lings, that he sort them so; that what he wantcth in

36O Essays, Civil and Moral.

the one, he may find in the other. Lucullus answered
Pompey well, who, when he saw his stately galleries
and rooms, so large and lightsome in one of his
houses, said, cc Surely an excellent place for summer,
" but how do you do in winter?5' Lucullus an-
swered, " Why, "do you not think me as wise as some
<f fowls are, that ever change their abode towards
" the winter?"

To pass from the seat to the house itself, we will do
as Cicero doth in the orator's art, who writes books
de orator e, and a book he entitles Orator: whereof
the former delivers the precepts of the art, and the
latter the perfection. We will therefore describe a
princely palace, making a brief model thereof. For
it is strange to see now in Europe, such huge buildings
as the Vatican, and Escurial, and some others be,
and yet scarce a very fair room in them.

First therefore, I say, you cannot have a perfect
palace, except you have two several sides; a side for
the banquet, as is spoken of in the book of Esther ;
and a side for the houshold : the one for feast and
triumphs, the other for dwelling. I understand both
these sides to be not only returns, but parts of the front ;
and to be uniform without, though severally parti-
tioned within; and to be on both sides of a great and
stately tower, in the midst of the front; that as it
were joineth them together on either hand. 1 would
have on the side of the banquet, in front, one only
goodly room above stairs, of some forty foot high;
and under it a room for a dressing or preparing place,
at times of triumphs. On the other side, which is
the houshold side, I wish it divided at the first into a
hall and a chapel, with a partition between, both of
good state and bigness ; and those not to go all the
length, but to have at the farther end a winter and a
summer parlour, both fair: and under these rooms a
fair and large cellar sunk under ground ; and likewise
some privy kitchens, with butteries, and pantries,
anpl the like, As for the tower, I would have it two
stones, of eighteen foot high apiece, above the two
\yingsj and a goodly leads upon the top, railed, with

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statues interposed; and the same tower to be divided
into rooms, as shall be thought fit. The stairs like-
wise to the upper rooms, let them be upon a fair open
newel, and finely railed in, with images of wood cast
into a brass colour; and a very fair landing-place at
the top. But this to be, if you do not appoint any of
the lower rooms for a dining-place of servants ; for
otherwise you shall have the servants dinner after your
own : for the steam of it will come up as in a tunnel.
And so much for the front. Only I understand the
height of the first stairs to be sixteen foot, which is
the height of the lower room.

Beyond this front is there to be a fair court, but
three .sides of it of a far lower building than the front.
And in all the four corners of that court, fair stair-cases
cast into turrets on the outside, and not within the row
of buildings themselves: but those towers are not to
be of the height of the front, but rather proportion-
able to the lower building. Let the court not be
paved, for that striketh up a great heat in summer,
and much cold in winter : but only some side alleys,
with a cross, and the quarters to graze, being kept
shorn, but not too near shorn. The row of return
on the banquet side, let it be all stately galleries ; in
which galleries let there be three, or five, fine cupo-
las, in the length of it, placed at equal distance; and
fine coloured windows of several works. On the
houshold side, chambers of presence, and ordinary
entertainments, with some bed-chambers; and let all
three sides be a double house, without thorough
Ijghts on the sides, that you may have rooms from the
sun, both for forenoon and afternoon. Cast it also,
that you may have rooms both for summer and winter;
shady for summer, and warm for winter. You shall
have sometimes fair houses so full of glass, that one
cannot tell where to become to be out of the ,sun or
cold. For imbowed windows, I hold them of good
use (in cities, indeed, upright do better, in respect of
the uniformity towards the street), for they be pretty
retiring places for conference ; and besides, they keep
both the wind and sun off; for that which would*

362 Essays, Civil and Moral.

strike almost through the room, doth scarce pass the
window. But let them be but few, four in the court,
on the sides only.

Beyond this court, let there be an inward court, of
the same square and height, which is to be environed
with the garden on all sides: and in the inside, clois-
tered on all sides upon decent and beautiful arches, as
high as the first story : on the under story, towards the
garden, let it be turned to a grotto, or place of shade
or estivation : and only have opening and windows
towards the garden, and be level upon the floor, no
whit sunk under ground, to avoid all dampishness.
And let there be a fountain, or some fair work of sta-
tues, in the midst of this court; and to be paved as
the other court was. These buildings to be for privy
lodgings on both sides, and the end for privy galle-
ries: whereof you must foresee, that one of them be
for an infirmary, if the prince or any special person
should be sick, with chambers, bed-chamber, anteca-
inera and recamera, joining to it. This upon the se-
cond story. Upon the ground-story, a fair gallery,
open,, upon pillars; and upon the third story, likewise,
an open gallery, upon pillars, to take the prospect
and freshness of the garden. At both corners of the
farther side, by way of return, let there be two deli-
cate or rich cabinets, daintily paved, richly hanged,
glazed with crystalline glass, arid a rich cupola in the
midst ; and all other elegancy that may be thought
upon. In the upper gallery too, I wish that there
may be, if the place will yield it, some fountains run-
ning in divers places from the wall, with some fine
avoidances. And thus much for the model of the pa-
lace ; save that you must have, before you come to
the front, three courts : a green court plain, with a
wall about it : a second court of the same, but more
garnished, with little turrets, or rather embellishments
upon the wall ; and a third court, to make a square with
the front, but not to be built, nor yet inclosed with a
naked wall, but inclosed with terraces, leaded aloft,
and fairly garnished on the three sides; and cloistered
on the inside with pillars, and not with arches below.

Essays, Civil and Moral 363

AST for offices, let them stand at distance* with some
low galleries to pass from them to the palace itself.

XLVI. Of GARDENS.

GOD Almighty first planted a garden : and indeed
it is the purest of human pleasures. It is the greatest
refreshment to the spirits of man ; without which,
buildings and palaces are but gross handy-works : and
a man shall ever see, that when ages grow to civility
and elegancy, men come to build stately, sooner than
to garden finely ; as if gardening were the greater
perfection. I do hold it in the royal ordering of gar-
dens, there ought to be gardens for all the months in
the year: in which severally, things of beauty may
be then in season. For December and January, and
the latter part of November, you must take such
things as are green all winter; holly; ivy; bays;
juniper; cypress-trees; yew; pine-apple trees; fir-
trees ; rosemary ; lavender ; periwinkle, the white,
the purple, and the blue; germander ; flags ; orange-
trees ; lemon-trees ; and myrtles, if they be stoved ;
and sweet marjoram, warm set. There folio weth, for
the latter part of January and February, the mezereon
tree, which then blossoms ; crocus vernus, both the
yellow and the gray; primroses ;anemonies; the early
tulip; hyacinthus orientalist chamdiris ; fritdlaria.
For March there come violets, especially the single
blue, which are the earliest ; the yellow daffodil ; the
daisy ; the almond-tree in blossom ; the peach tree in.
blossom ; the cornelian-tree in blossom ; sweet briar.
In April follow the double white violet ; the wall-
flower ; the stQck-gilliflower ; the cowslip; flower-
de-luces ; and lilies of all natures ; rosemary-flowers ;
the tulip ; the double piony ; the pale daffodil; the
French honeysuckle ; the cherry-tree in blossom ; the
damascene and plumb-trees in blossom ; the white-
thorn in leaf; the lilach-tree. In May and June
come pinks of all sorts ; especially the blush-pink ;
roses of all kinds, except the musk, which comes
later ; honey-suckles ; strawberries ; bugloss ; colum-
bine 3 the French marygold; flos Africanus > cherry-

Essays, Civil and Moral.

tree in fruit ; ribes; figs in fruit ; rasps ; vine-flowers ; la-
vender in flowers; the sweet satyrian, with the white
flower ; herba muscaria; lilium convallium ; the apple-
tree in blossom. In July come gilliflowers of all va-
rieties; musk roses; the lime-tree in blossom ; early
pears and plums in fruit, gennitings, codlins. In
August come plumbs of all sorts in fruit; pears, apri-
cots, berberries, filberds, muskmelons, monks-hoods of
all colours. In September come grapes, apples, pop-
pies of all colours, peaches, mclo cotones, nectarines,
cornelians, wardens, quinces. In October, and the
beginning of November, come services, medlars, bul-
laces, roses cut or removed to come late, hollyoaks,
and such like. These particulars are for the climate
of London : but my meaning is perceived, that you
may have ver perpetuitm, as the place affords.

And because the breath of flowers is far sweeter irt
the air, where it comes and goes, like the warbling
of music, than in the hand, therefore nothing is more
fit for that delight than to know what be the flowers
and plants that do best perfume the air. Roses, da-
mask and red, are fast flowers of their smells ; so that
you may walk by a whole row of them and find no-
thing of their sweetness : yea, though it be in a morn-
ing's dew. Bays likewise yield no smell, as they
grow; rosemary, little ; nor sweet marjoram. That
which above all others yields the sweetest smell in the
air, is the violet; especially the white double violet,
which comes twice a year ; about the middle of April,
and about Bartholomew-tide. Next to that is the
musk-rose; then the strawberry-leaves dying, with a
most excellent cordial smell; then the flower of the
vines ; it is a little dust, like the dust of a bent, which
grows upon the cluster, in the first coming forth ;then
sweet-brier: then wall-flowers, which are very de-
lightful, to be set under a parlour, or lower chamber
window; then pinks and gilliflowers, especially the
rnatted pink, and clove gilliflower ; then the flowers
of the lime-tree ;. then the honey-suckles, so they be
somewhat afar off. Of bean -flowers I speak not,
Because they are field-flowers ; but those 'which per-

Essays, Civ Hand Moral. 365

fume the air most delightfully, not passed" t'y as the
rest, but being trodden upon and crushed, are three;
that is, burnet, wild thyme, and water mints. There-
fore you are to set whole alleys of them, to have the
pleasure when you walk or tread.

For gardens, speaking of those which are indeed
prince-like, as we have done of buildings, the con-
tents ought not well to be under thirty acres of
ground, and to be divided into three parts: a green
in the entrance ; a heath or desert in the going forth ;
and the main garden in the midst; besides alleys on
both sides. And I like well, that four acres of ground
be assigned to the green, six to the heath, four and
four to either side, and twelve to the main garden.
The green hath two pleasures ; the one, because no-
thing is more pleasant to the eye than green grass kept
finely shorn ; the other, because it will give you a
fair alley in the midst ; by which you may go in front
upon a stately hedge, which is to inclose the garden.
But because the alley will be long, and in great heat
of the year or day, you ought not to buy the shade in
the garden by going in the sun through the green ;
therefore you are, of either side the green, to plant a
covert alley, upon carpenters work, about twelve foot
in height, by which you may go in shade into the
garden. As for the making of knots or figures, with
divers coloured earths, that they may lie under the
windows of the house, on that side which the garden
stands, they be but toys; you may see as good sights,
many times, in tarts. The garden is best to be
square, encompassed on all the four sides with a
stately arched hedge : the arches to be upon pillars of
carpenters work, of some ten foot high, and six foot
broad; and the spaces between of the same dimension
with the breadth of the arch. Over the arches let
there be an entire hedge, of some four foot high,
framed also upon carpenters work; and upon the
upper hedge, over every arch, a little turret, with a
belly enough to receive a cage of birds ; and over
every space between the arches, some other little
figure, with broad plates of round coloured . glass,

366 Essays, Civil and Moral.

gilt, for the sun to play upon. But this hedge I in-
tend to be raised upon a bank, not steep, but gently
slope, of some six foot, set all with flowers. Also I
understand, that this square of the garden should not
be the whole breadth of the ground, but to leave on
either side ground enough for diversity of side-alleys ;
unto which the two covert alleys of the green may
deliver you : but there must be no alleys with hedges
at either end of this great inclosure ; not at the hither
end, for letting your prospect upon the fair hedge
from the green ; nor at the further end, for letting
your prospect from the hedge, through the arches,
upon the heath.

For the ordering of the ground within the great
hedge. I leave it to variety of device ; advising
nevertheless, that whatsoever form you cast it into,
first it be not too busy, or full of work : wherein I, for
my part, do not like images cut out in juniper or
other garden stuff; they be for children. Little low
hedges round, like welts, with some pretty pyramids,
I like well ; and in some places, fair columns upon
frames of carpenter's work. I would also have the
alleys spacious and fair. You may have closer
alleys upon the side grounds, but none in the main
garden. I wish also, in the very middle, a fair
mount, with the three ascents and alleys, enough for
four to walk a-breast; which I would have to be per-
fect circles, without any bulwarks or embossments;
and the whole mount to be thirty foot high ; and
some fine banqueting house, with some chimneys
neatly- cast, and without too much glass.

For fountains, they are a great beauty and refresh-
ment ; but pools mar all, and make the garden un-
wholesome, and full of flies and frogs. Fountains I
intend to be of two natures : the one that sprinkleth
or spouteth water, the other a fair receipt of water,
of some thirty or forty foot square, but without
fish, or slime, or mud. For the first, the ornaments
of images gilt, or of marble, which are in use, do
well : but the main matter is so to convey the
water, as it never stay either in the bowls, or in the

Essays, Civil and Moral. 367

cistern ; that the water be never by rest discoloured,
green or red, or the like ; or gather any mossiness
or putrefaction. Besides that, it is to be cleansed
every day by the hand. Also some steps up to it,
and some fine pavement about it doth well. As for
the Qther kind of fountain, which we may call a
bathing pool, it may admit much curiosity and
beauty, wherewith we will not trouble ourselves ; as
that the bottom be finely paved, and with images ;
the sides likewise ; and withal embellished with
coloured glass, and such things of lustre ; encom-
passed also with fine rails of low statues. But the
main point is the same which we mentioned in the
former kind of fountain ; which is, that the water be
in perpetual motion, fed by a water higher than the
pool, and deli-vered into it by fair spouts, and then
discharged avvay under ground by some equality of
bores, that it stay little. And for fine devices of
arching water without spilling, and making it rise in
several forms, of feathers, drinking-glasses, canopies,
and the like, they be pretty things to look on, but
nothing to health and sweetness.

For the heath, which was the third part of our
plot, I wish it to be framed as much as may be to
a natural wildness. Trees I would have none in it,
but some thickets made only of sweet-brier and
honey-suckle, and some wild vine amongst ; and the
ground set with violets, strawberries, and primroses.
For these are sweet and prosper in the shade. And
these to be in the heath here and there, not in any
order. I like also little heaps, in the nature of mole-
hills, such as are in wild heaths, to be set, some with
wild thyme, some with pinks, some with germander,
that gives a good flower to the eye, some with peri-
winkle, some with violets, some with strawberries,
some with cowslips, some with daisies, some with red
roses, some with lilium coiwallhtm, some with sweet-
williams red, some with bearsfoot, and the like low
flowers, being withal sweet and sightly. Part of
which Jieaps to be with standards of little bushes,
prickt upon their top, and part without. The

368 Essays, Civil and Monti.

standards to be roses, juniper, holly, berberries, but
here and there, because of the smell of their blossom,
red currants, gooseberries, rosemary, bays, sweet-
briar, and such like. But these standards to be kept
with cutting, that they gro'w not out of course.

For the side grounds, you are to fill them with va-
riety of alleys, private, to give a full shade, some
ot them, wheresoever the sun be. You are to frame
some of them likewise for shelter, that when the
wind blows sharp, you may walk as in a gallery.
And those alleys must be likewise hedged at both
ends, to keep out the wind ; and these closer alleys
must be ever finely gravelled, and no grass, because
of growing wet. In many of these alleys likewise;
you are to set fruit trees of all sorts ; as well upon
the walls as in ranges. And this should be generally
observed, that the borders wherein you plant your
fruit-trees, be fair and large, and low, and not steep ;
and set with fine flowers, but thin and sparingly, lest
they deceive the trees. At the end of both the side
grounds, I would have a mount of some pretty height,
leaving the wall of the inclosure breast high, to look
abroad into the fields.

For the main garden, I do not deny but there
should be some fair alleys, ranged on both sides, with
fruit-trees, and some pretty tufts of fruit-trees, and
arbours with seats, set in some decent order ; but
these to be by no means set too thick, but to leave the
main garden so as it be not close, but the air open
and free. Eor as for shade, I would have you rest
upon the alleys of the side grounds, there to walk,
if you be disposed, in the heat of the year or day ; but
to make account, that the main garden is for the
more temperate parts of the year; and in the heat of
summer, for the morning and the evening, or over-
cast days.

For aviaries, I like them not, except they be of that
largeness, as they may be turfed, and have living
plants and bushes set in them; that the birds may
have more scope, and natural nestling, and that no
foulness appear in the floor of the aviary.

Essays, Civil and MofaL

So I have made a platform of a princely garden,
partly by precept, partly by drawing ; not a model,
but some general lines of it ; and in this I have
spared for no cost. But it is nothing for great princes,
that for the most part, taking advice with workmen,
with no less cost set their things together ; and some-
times add statues, and such things, for state and mag-
nificence, but nothing to the true pleasure of a
garden*

XLVII. Of NEGOTIATING.

IT is generally better to deal by speech, than by
letter ; and by the mediation of a third, than by a
man's self* Letters are good, when a man would
draw an answer by letter back again ; or when it
may serve for a man's justification, afterwards to pro-
duce his own letter • or where it may be danger to be
interrupted, or heard by pieces* To deal in person
is good, when a man's face breedeth regard, as com-
monly with inferiors ; or in tender cases, where a
man's eye upon the countenance of him with whom
he speaketh, may give him a direction how far to
go : and generally where a man will reserve to him-
self liberty, either to disavow or to expound* In
choice of instruments, it is better to choose men of a
plainer sort, that are like to do that that is com-
mitted to them, and to report back again faithfully
the success -, than those that are cunning to contrive
out of other men's business somewhat to grace them-
selves, and will help the matter in report, for satisfac-
tion sake. Use also such persons as affect the busi-
ness wherein they are employed, for that quickeneth
much ; and such as are fit for the matter ; as bold
men for expostulation, fair-spoken men for persuasion,
crafty men for inquiry and observation, froward and
absurd men for business that doth not well bear out
itself. Use also such as have been lucky, and pre-
vailed before in things wherein you have employed
them ; for that breeds confidence, and they will strive
to maintain their prescription. It is better to sound
a person with whom one deals, afar off, than to fall

VOL. II. E B

370 Essays, Civil and Moral.

upon the point at first ; except you mean to surprise
him by some short question. It is better dealing with
men in appetite, than with those that are where they
would be. If a man deal with another upon con-
ditions, the start or first performance is all ; which a
man cannot reasonably demand, except either the
nature of the thing be such which must go before ;
or else a man can persuade the other party, that he
shall still need him in some other thing ; or else that
he be counted the honester man. All practice is to
discover, or to work. Men discover themselves in
trust, in passion, at unawares, and of necessity, when
they would have somewhat done, and cannot find an
apt pretext. If you would work any man, you must
either know his nature and fashions, and so lead
him ; or his ends, and so persuade him ; or his weak-
ness and disadvantages, and so awe him ; or those
that have interest in him, and so govern him. In
dealing with cunning persons, we must ever con-
sider their ends to interpret their speeches ; and it is
good to say little to them, and that which they least
look for. In all negotiations of difficulty, a man
may not look to sow and reap at once ; but must
prepare business, and so ripen it by degrees.

XLVTII. Of FOLLOWERS and FRIENDS.
COSTLY followers are not to be liked; lest while
a man maketh his train longer, he make his wings
shorter. I reckon to be costly, not them alone which
charge the purse, but which are wearisom and im-
portune in suits. Ordinary followers ought to chal-
lenge no higher conditions than countenance, recom-
mendation, and protection from wrongs. Factious
followers are worse to be liked, which follow not
upon affection to him with whom they range them-
selves, but upon discontentment conceived against
some other : whereupon commonly ensueth that ill
intelligence that we many times see between great
personages. Likewise glorious followers, who make
themselves as trumpets of the commendation of those
they follow, are full of inconvenience; for they taint

Essays, Civil and Moral. 371

business through want of secrecy > and they export
honour from a man, and make him a return in envy.
There is a kind of followers likewise, which are dan-
gerous, being indeed espials; which inquire the
secrets of the house, and bear tales of them to others.
Vet such men many times are in great favour ; for
they are officious, and commonly exchange tales. The
following by certain estates of men answerable to
that which a great person himself professeth, as of
soldiers to him that hath been employed in the wars,
and the like, hath ever been a thing civil, and well
taken even in monarchies ; so it be without too much
pomp or popularity. But the most honourable kind
of following, is to be followed as one that appre-
hendeth to advance virtue and desert in all sorts of
persons. And yet where there is no eminent odds in
sufficiency, it is better to take with the more passable
than with the more able. And besides, to speak
truth, in base times active men are of more use than
virtuous. It is true, that in government, it is good to
use men of one rank equally : for to countenance
some extraordinarily, is to make them insolent, and
the rest discontent; because they may claim a due.
But contrariwise in favour, to use men with much
difference and election is good -9 for it maketh the
persons preferred more thankful, and the rest more
officious ; because all is of favour. It is good discre-
tion not to make too much of any man at the first ;
because one cannot hold out that proportion. To be
governed, as we call it, by one, is not safe ; for it
shews softness, and gives a freedom to scandal and
disreputation ; for those that would not censure, or
speak ill of a man immediately, will talk more boldly
of those that are so great with them, and thereby
wound their honour. Yet to be distracted with
many, is worse ; for it makes men to be of the last
impression, and full of change. To take advice of
some few friends is ever honourable ; for lookers-on
many times see more than gamesters ; and the vale
best discovereth the hill. There is little friendship in
the world, and least of all between equals, which was

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372 Essays, Civil and Moral

wont to be magnified. That that is, is between su-
perior and inferior, whose fortunes may comprehend
the one the other.

XLIX. Of SUITORS.

MANY ill matters and projects are undertaken ;
and private suits do putrify the public good. Many
good matters are undertaken with bad minds ; I mean
not only corrupt minds, but crafty minds, that intend
not performance. Some embrace suits, which never
mean to deal effectually in them ; but if they see there
may be life in the matter by some other mean, they
will be content to win a thank, or take a second re-
ward, or at least to make use in the mean time of the
suitor's hopes. Some take hold of suits, only for an
occasion to cross some other, or to make an informa-
tion, whereof they could not otherwise have apt pre-
text; without care what become of the suit when
that turn is served : or generally, to make other men's
business a kind of entertainment to bring in their
own. Nay, some undertake suits, with a full purpose
to let them fall ; to the end to gratify the adverse
party or competitor. Surely there is in some sort a
right in every suit ; either a right of equity, if it be
a suit of controversy ; or a right of desert, if it be a
suit of petition. If affection lead a man to favour the
wrong side in justice, let him rather use his counte-
nance to compound the matter than to carry it. If
affection lead a man to favour the less worthy in
desert, let him do it without depraving or disabling
the better deserver. In suits which a man doth not
well understand, it is good to refer them to some
friend of trust and judgment, that may report whether
he may deal in them with honour; but let him
choose well his referendaries, for else he may be led
by the nose. Suitors are so distasted with delays and
abuses, that plain dealing in denying to deal in suits
at first, and reporting the success barely, and in chal-
lenging no more thanks than one hath deserved, is
grown not only honourable, but also gracious." In
suits of favour, the first coming ought to take little

Essays, Civil and Moral. 373

place ; so far forth consideration may be had of his
trust, that, if intelligence of the matter could not
otherwise have been had but by him, advantage be
not taken of the note, but the party left to his other
means, and in some sort recompensed for his dis-
covery. To be ignorant of the value of a suit, is
simplicity ; as well as to be ignorant of the right
thereof, is want of conscience. Secrecy in suits is a
great mean of obtaining; for voicing them to be in
forwardness, may discourage some kind of suitors ;
.but doth quicken and awake others, But timing of
the suit is the principal : timing, I say, not only in
respect of the person that should grant it, but in
respect of those which are like to cross it. Let a
man, in the choice of his mean, rather choose the
fittest mean than the greatest mean : and rather them
that deal in certain things than those that are ge-
neral. The reparation of a denial is sometimes equal
to the first grant; if a man shew himself neither de-
jected nor discontented. Iniquum petas, ut cequum
feras ; is a good rule, where a man hath strength of
favour ; but otherwise a man were better rise in his
suit ; for he that would have ventured at first to have
lost the suitor, will not in the conclusion lose both
the suitor and his own former favour. Nothing is
thought so easy a request to a great person, as his
letter ; and yet, if it be not in a good cause, it is
so much out of his reputation. There are no worse
instruments than these general contrivers of suits; for
they are but a kind of poison and infection to public
proceedings.

L. Of STUDIES.

STUDIES serve for delight, for ornament, and for
ability. Their chief use for delight, is in privateness
and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and for
ability, is m the judgment and disposition of business.
For expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of
particulars, one by one ; but the general counsels, and
the plots and marshalling of affairs, come best from
those that are learned. To spend too much time in

374 Essays, Civil and Moral.

studies, is sloth : to use them too much for ornament,
is affectation ; to make judgment only by their rules,
is the humour of a scholar. They perfect nature, and
are perfected by experience : for natural abilities are
like natural plants, that need pruning by study ; and
studies themselves do give forth directions too much
at large, except they be bounded in by experience.
Crafty men contemn studies; simple men admire
them ; and wise men use them: for they teach not their
own use : but that is a wisdom without them, and
above them, won by observation. Read not to con-
tradict and confute ; nor to believe and take for grant'
ed ; nor to find talk and discourse ; but to weigh and
consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be
swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested :
that is, some books are to be read only in parts ;
others to be read, but not curiously ; and some few
to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.
Some books also may be read by deputy, and extracts
made of them by others ; but that would be only in
the less important arguments, and the meaner sort of
books : else distilled books are like common distilled
waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a full man ;
conference a ready man : and writing an exact man.
And therefore if a man write little, he had need have
a great memory : if he confer little, he had need
have a present wit ; and if he read little, he had need
have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth
not. Histories make men wise; poets, witty; the
mathematics, subtile; natural philosophy, deep;
moral, grave ; logic and rhetoric, able to contend :
Abeunt studia in mores. Nay, there is no stond or
impediment in the wit, but may be wrought out by
fit studies ; like as diseases of the body may have ap-
propriated exercises : bowling is good tor the stone
and reins ; shooting for the lungs and breast; gentle
walking for the stomach ; riding for the head ; and
the like. So if a man's wit be wandering, let him
study the mathematics ; for in demonstrations, if his
wit be called away never so little, he must begin
again : if his wit be not apt to distinguish or find dif-

Essays, Civil and Moral. 375

ferences, let him study the schoolmen ; for they are
cymini sectores : if he be not apt to beat over mat-
ters, and to call up one thing to prove and illustrate
another, let him study the lawyers cases : so every
defect of the mind may have a special receipt.

LI. Of FACTION.

A1ANY have an opinion not wise ; that for a prince
to govern his estate, or for a great person to govern
his proceedings, according to the respect of factions,
is a principal part of policy ; whereas, contrariwise,
the chiefest wisdom is, either in ordering those things
which are general, and wherein men of several fac-
tions do nevertheless agree, or in dealing with cor-
respondence to particular persons, one by one. But
I say not, that the consideration of factions is to be
neglected. Mean men, in their rising, must adhere;
but great men, that have strength in themselves, were
better to maintain themselves indifferent and neutral.
Yet even in beginners, to adhere so moderately, as
he be a man of the one faction, which is most passible
with the other, commonly giveth best way. The
lower and weaker faction is the firmer in conjunction :
and it is often seen, that a few that are stiff do tire
out a greater number that are more moderate. When
one of the factions is extinguished, the remaining
subdivideth : as the faction between Lucullus and the
rest of the nobles of the senate, which they called opti-
mates, held out a while against the faction of Pompey
and Caesar : but when the senate's authority was pull-
ed down, Caesar and Pompey soon after brake. The
faction or party of Antonius and Octavianus Caesar,
against Brutus and Cassius, held out likewise for a
time : but when Brutus and Cassius were overthrown,
then soon after Antonius and Octavianus brake and
subdivided. These examples are of wars, but the
same holdeth in private factions. And therefore those
that are seconds in factions, do many times, when the
faction subdivideth, prove principals: but many times
also they prove cyphers and cashiered; for many a
man's strength is in opposition; and when thatfaileth

376 Essays, Civil and Moral.

he groweth out of use. It is commonly seen, that
men once placed, take in with the contrary faction to
that by which they enter ; thinking belike that they
have the first sure, and now are ready for a new pur-
chase. The traitor in faction lightly goeth away with
it : for when matters have stuck long in balancing, the
winning of some one man casteth them, and he get-
teth all the thanks. The even carriage between two
factions, proceedeth not always of moderation, but of
a trueness to a man's self, with end to make use of
both. Certainly in Italy they hold it a little suspect
in popes, when they have often in their mouth Padre
commune: and take it to be a sign of one that mean-
eth to refer all to the greatness of his own house.
Kings had need beware how they side themselves,
and make themselves as of a faction or party ; for
leagues within the state are ever pernicious to monar-
chies ; for they raise an obligation paramount to obli-
gation of sovereignty, and make the king tanquam
units ex nobis ; as was to be seen in the league of
France, When factions are carried too high, and too
violently, it is a sign of weakness in princes, and
much to the prejudice both of their authority and bu^
siness. The motions of factions under kings ought
to be like the motions, as the astronomers speak, of
the inferior orbs ; which may have their proper mo-
tions, but yet still are quietly carried by the higher
motion of primum mobile.

LII. Of CEREMONIES and RESPECTS,
HE that is only real, had need have exceeding
great parts of virtue : as the stone had need to be
rich, that is set without foil : but if a man mark it
well, it is in praise and commendation of men, as it is.
in gettings and gains. For the proverb is true, that
light gains make heavy purses : for light gains come
thick, whereas great come but now and then. So it
is true, that small matters win great commendation,
because they are continually in use, and in note ;
whereas the occasion of any great virtue cometh but
on festivals : therefore it doth much add to a man's

Essays, Civil and Moral. 377

reputation, and is, as queen Isabella said, like per-
petual letters commendatory, to have good forms.
To attain them, it almost sufficeth not to despise them :
for so shall a man observe them in others ; and let him
trust himself with the rest. For if he labour too much
to express them, he shall lose their grace ; which is
to be natural and unaffected. Some mens behaviour
is like a verse, wherein every syllable is measured :
how can a man comprehend great matters, that break-
eth his mind too much to small observations ? Not to
use ceremonies at all, is to teach others not to use
them again, and sodiminisheth respect to himself; es-
pecially they be not to beornitted tostrangers and for-
mal natures ; but the dwelling upon them and exalt-
ing them above the moon, is not only tedious, but
cloth diminish the faith and credit of him that speaks.
And certainly there is a kind of conveying of effectual
and imprinting passages, amongst compliments, which
is of singular use, if a man can hit upon it. Amongst
a man's peers, a man shall be sure of familiarity; and
therefore it is good a little to keep state. Amongst
a man's inferiors one shall be sure of reverence ; and
therefore it is good a little to be familiar. He that is
too much in any thing, so that he giveth another
occasion of satiety, maketft himself cheap. To ap-
ply one's self to others is good : so it be with demon-
stration that a man doth it upon regard, and not upon
facility. It is a good precept, generally in seconding
another, yet to add somewhat of one's own ; as if you
will grant his opinion, let it be with some distinction ;
if you will follow his motion, let it be with condition;
if you allow his counsel, let it be with alledging far-
ther reason. Men had need beware how they be too
perfect in compliments; for be they never so sufficient
otherwise, their enviers will be sure to give them that
attribute, to the disadvantage of their greater virtues.
It is loss also in business, to be too full of respects, or
to be too curious in observing times and opportunities :
Solomon saith, He that considereth the icind shall not
sow ; and he that looketh to the clouds shall not reap. A

37$ Essays^ Civil and Moral.

wise man will make more opportunities than he finds.
Mens behaviour should be Jike their apparel; not
too strait or point device, but free for exercise or
motion.

LIU. Of PRAISE.

PRAISE is the reflexion of virtue: but it is as the
glass or body which giveth the reflexion. If it be
from the common people, it is commonly false and
nought ; and rather followeth vain persons than vir-
tuous ; for the common people understand not many
excellent virtues : the lowest virtues draw praise from
them: the middle virtues work in them astonishment
or admiration ; but of the highest virtues they have
no sense or perceiving at all : but shews, and species
•virtutibus similes, serve best with them. Certainly
fame is like a river, that beareth up things light
and swoln, and drowns things weighty and solid:
but if persons of quality and judgment concur, then
it is, as the Scripture saith, Nomen bonum instar un-
guentifragrantis. It filleth all round about, and will
not easily away : for the odours of ointments are more
durable than those of flowers. There be so many false
points of praise, that a man may justly hold it a sus-
pect. Some praises proceed merely of flattery ; and
if he be an ordinary flatterer, he will have certain
common attributes, which may serve every man;
if he be a cunning flatterer, he will follow the arch-
flatterer, which is a man's self; and wherein a man
thinketh best of himself, therein the flatterer will up-
hold him most: but if he be an impudent flatterer,
Iook5 wherein a man is conscious to himself that he is
most defective, and is most out of countenance in
himself, that will the flatterer entitle him to perforce,
spreta conscientia. Some praises come of good wishes
and respects, which is a form due in civility to kings
and great persons ; landando pnecipere ; when by tell-
ing men what they are, they represent to them what
they should be. Some men are praised maliciously
to their hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy towards
them : pessimum genus inimicorum laudantium ; inso-

Essays, Civil and Moral. 379

much as it was a proverb amongst the Grecians, that
he that was praised to his hurt, should have a push
rise upon his nose ; as we say, that a blister will rise
upon one's tongue that tells a lie. Certainly moderate
praise, used with opportunity and not vulgar, is that
which doth the good. Solomon saith, He that prais-
elh his friend aloud, rising early, it shall be to him no
belter than a curse. Too much magnifying of man
or matter, doth irritate contradiction, and procure
envy and scorn. To praise a man's self cannot be
decent, except it be in rare cases : but to praise a
man's office or profession, he may do it with good
grace, and with a kind of magnanimity. The cardi-
nals of Rome, which are theologues, and friars and
schoolmen, have a phrase of notable contempt and
scorn, towards civil business ; for they call all tem-
poral business, of wars, embassages, judicature, and
other employments, shirrerie, which is under-she-
rifTries, as if they were but matters for under-sheriffs
and catchpoles ; though many times those under-she-
riftries do more good than their high speculations. St.
Paul, when he boasts of himself, he doth oft inter-
lace, / speak like a fool ; but speaking of his calling,
he saith, magnijicabo apostolatum meum.

LIV. Of VAIN-GLORY.

IT was prettily devised of ^Esop: The fly sat upon
the axle-tree of the chariot-wheel, and said, What a
-dust do I raise ? So are there some vain persons, that
whatsoever goeth alone, or moveth upon greater
means, if they have never so little hand in it, they
think it is they that carry it. They that are glorious
must needs be factious; for all bravery stands upon
comparisons. They must needs be violent to make
good their own vaunts: neither can they be secret,
and therefore not effectual ; but according to the
French proverb, Beaucoup de bruit, peu de fruit :
Much bruit, little fruit. Yet certainly there is use of
this quality in civil affairs: where there is an opinion,
and frame to be created, either of virtue or greatness,
these men are good trumpeters. Again, as Titus

380 Essays, Civil and Moral.

Livius noteth, in the case of Antiochus and the ./Eto-
Jians, there are sometimes great effects of cross lies ;
as if a man that negotiates between two princes, to
draw them to join in a war against the third, doth ex-
tol the forces of either of them above measure, the one
to the other: and sometimes he that deals between
man and man, raiseth his owrn credit with both, by
pretending greater interest than he hath in either.
And in these and the like kinds, it often falls out, that
somewhat is produced of nothing; for lies are suffi-
cient to breed opinion, and opinion brings on sub-
stance. In military commanders and soldiers, vain-
glory is an essential point ; for as iron sharpens iron,
so by glory one courage sharpeneth another: incases
of great enterprise, upon charge and adventure, a
composition of glorious natures doth put life into bu-
siness ; and those that are of solid and sober natures,
have more of the ballast than of the sail. In fame of
learning, the flight will be slow, without some fea-
thers of ostentation : Qui de contemnenda gloria libr os
scribunt, women suum inscribunt. Socrates, Aristotle,
Galen, were men full of ostentation. Certainly vain-
glory helpeth to perpetuate a man's memory; and
virtue was never so beholden to human nature, as it
received its due at the second hand. Neither had the
fame of Cicero, Seneca, Plinius Secundus, borne her
age so well, if it had not been joined with some va-
nity in themselves : like unto varnish, that makes
ceilings not only shine but last. But all this while,
when I speak of vain-glory, I mean not of that pro-
perty that Tacitus doth attribute to Mucianus; om-
niimi, qua dijcerat,feceratque, arte quadam ostentator :
for that proceeds not of vanity, but of natural magna-
nimity and discretion : and in some persons, is not
. only comely but gracious. For excusations, cessions,
modesty itself well governed, are but arts of ostenta-
tion. And amongst those arts, there is none better
than that which Plinius Secundus speaketh of; which
is to be liberal of praise and commendation to others,
in that wherein a man's sell hath any perfection. For,
saith Pliny, very wittily, " in commending another

Essays, Civil and Moral. 381

" you do yourself right ; for he that you commend is
" either superior to you in that you commend, or
" inferior. If he be inferior, if he be to be com-
** mended, you much more. If he be superior, if he
" be not to be commended, you much less." Glo-
rious men are the scorn of wise men; the admiration
of fools ; the idols of parasites -, and the slaves of their
own vaunts.

LV. Of HONOUR and REPUTATION.

THE winning of honour is but the revealing of a
man's virtue and worth without disadvantage. For
some in their actions do woo and affect honour and
reputation; which sort of men are commonly much
talked of, but inwardly little admired. And some,
contrariwise, darken their virtue in the shew of it ; so
as they be undervalued in opinion. If a man perform
that which hath not been attempted before, or at-
tempted and given over; or hath been atchieved, but
not with so good circumstance ; he shall purchase
more honour than by effecting a matter of greater dif-
ficulty or virtue, wherein he is but a follower. If a
man so temper his actions, as in some one of them he
doth content every faction or combination of people,
the music will be the fuller. A man is an ill husband
of his honour that entereth into any action, the failing
wherein may disgrace him more than the carrying of
it through can honour him. Honour that is gained
and broken upon another, hath the quickest reflexion,
like diamonds cut with fascets. And therefore let a
man contend to excel any competitors of his in ho-
nour, in out-shooting them, if he can, in their own
bow. Discreet followers and servants help much to
reputation : omnisfama a domesticis emanat. Envy,
which is the canker of honour, is best extinguished
by declaring a man's self, in his ends rather to seek
merit than fame ; arid by attributing a man's suc-
cesses rather to divine providence and felicity, than
to his own virtue or policy. The true marshalling of
the degrees of sovereign honour, are these. In the
first place are conditores hnperiorum ; founders of states

382 Essays, Civil and Moral

and commonwealths ; such as were Romulus, Cyrus,
Caesar, Ottoman, Ismael. In the second place are
IcgislatereA, lawgivers, which are also called second
founders, or perpetui principes, because they govern
by their ordinances, after they are gone : such were
Lycurgus, Solon, Justinian, Edgar, Alphonsus of
Castile the wise, that made the Siete partidas. In
the third place are liberatores, or salvatores ; such
as compound the long miseries of civil wars, or deliver
their countries from servitude of strangers or tyrants ;
as Augustus Caesar, Vespasianus, Aurelianus, Theo-
doricus; King Henry the Seventh, of England ; King
Henry the Fourth, of France. In the fourth place
are propagators, or propugnatores imperil, such as in
honourable wars enlarge their territories, or make no-
ble defence against invaders. And in the last place
are, patres patria, which reign justly, and make the
times good wherein they live. Both which last kinds
need no examples, they are in such number. Degrees
of honour in subjects are; first, participes curarum,
those upon whom princes do discharge the greatest
weight of their affairs ; their right handsy as we call
them. The next are duces belli, great leaders ; such
as are princes lieutenants, and do them notable ser-
vices in the wars. The third are gratiosi, favourites ;
such as exceed not this scantling, to be solace to the
sovereign, and harmless to the people : and the fourth,
negotiis pares; such as have great places under
princes, and execute their places with sufficiency.
There is an honour likewise, which may be ranked
amongst the greatest, which happeneth rarely : that
is, of such as sacrifice themselves to death or danger
for the good of their country , as was M. Regulus,
and the two Decii.

LVI. Of JUDICATURE.

JUDGES ought to remember, that their office is
jits dicej-e, and nott/z«- dare; to interpret law, and not
to make law, or give law. Else will it be like the au-
thority claimed by the church of Rome; which, un-
der pretext of exposition of Scripture, doth not stick

Essays, Civil and Moral. 383

to add and alter ; and to pronounce that which they
do not find ; and by shew of antiquity to introduce
novelty. Judges ought to be more learned than
witty ; more reverend than plausible ; and more ad-
vised than confident. Above all things, integrity is
their portion and proper virtue. Cursed, saith the
law, is he that removeth the land-mark. The mislayer
of a mere-stone is to blame : but it is the unjust judge
that is the capital remover of land-marks, when he de-
fineth amiss of lands and property. One foul sentence
doth more hurt than many foul examples. For these
do but corrupt the stream : the other corrupteth the
fountain. So saith Solomon ; Forts turbatus, et vena
corrupt a, est Justus cadcns in causa sua coram adversa-
ria. The office of judges may have reference unto
the parties that sue ; unto the advocates that plead ;
unto the clerks and ministers of justice underneath
them ; and to the sovereign or state above them.

First, for the causes or parties that sue. There be,
saith the Scripture, that turn judgment into wormwood;
and surely there be also that turn it into vinegar : for
injustice maketh it bitter, and delays make it sour.
The principal duty of a judge is, to suppress force and
fraud ; whereof force is the more pernicious when it
is open ; and fraud when it is close and disguised.
Add thereto contentious suits, which ought to be
spewed out as the surfeit of courts. A judge ought to
prepare his way to a just sentence, as God useth to
prepare his way, by raising valleys and taking down
hills : so when there appeareth on either side an high
hand, violent prosecution, cunning advantages taken,
combination, power, great counsel, then is the virtue
of a judge seen, to make inequality equal ; that he
may plant his judgment as upon an even ground. Qui
fortiteremungit, elicit sanguinem ; and where the wine-
press is hard wrought, it yields a harsh wine, that
tastes of the grape-stone. Judges must beware of
hard constructions and strained inferences ; for there
is no worse torture than the torture of laws: especially
in case of laws penal they ought to have care, that
that which was meant for terror be not turned into

Essays, Civil and Moral.

rigour; and that they bring not upon the people that
shower whereof the Scripture speaketh, />/*/<?/ super eos
laqueos : for penal laws pressed are a shower of snares
upon the people. Therefore let penal laws, if they
have been sleepers of long, or if they be grown unfit
for the present time, be by wise judges confined in the
execution ; Judicis qffidum esf, lit res, if a tempora re^
rum, etc. In causes of life and death, judges ought,
as far as the law permitteth, in justice to remember
mercy ; and to cast a severe eye upon the example,
but a merciful eye upon the person.

Secondly, for the advocates and counsel that plead :
patience and gravity of hearing is an essential part of
justice; and an over-speaking judge is no well-tuned
cymbal. It is no grace to a judge, first to find that
which he might have heard in due time trom the bar;
or to shew quickness of conceit in cutting offevi*
dence or counsel too short ; or to prevent information
by questions, though pertinent. The parts 'of a judge
in hearing are four: to direct the evidence ; to mode*
rate length, repetition, or impertinency of speech ; to
recapitulate, select, and collate, the material points of
that which hath been said ; and to give the rule or
sentence. Whatsoever is above these, is too much ;
and proceedeth either of glory and willingness to
speak, or of impatience to hear, or of shortness of me-
mory, or of want of a stayed and equal attention. It
is a strange thing to see, that the boldness of advo-
cates should prevail with judges; whereas they should
imitate God, in whose seat they sit: who represseth
the presumptuous, and giveth grace to the modest. But
it is more strange that judges should have noted fa-
vourites; which cannot but cause multiplication of
fees and suspicion of bye-ways. There is due from
the judge to the advocate some commendation and
gracing where causes are well handled, and fairly
pleaded ; especially towards the side which obtaineth
not; for that upholds in the client the reputation of
his counsel, and beats down in him the conceit of his
cause. There is likewise due to the public a civil re-
prehension of advocates, where there appeareth can-

Essays, Civil and Moral. s 8 5

ning counsel, gross neglect, slight information, indis-
creet pressing, or an over-bold defence. And let not
the counsel at the bar chop with the judge, nor wind
himself into the handling of the cause anew, after the
judge hath declared his sentence : but on the other
side, let not the judge meet the cause halfway ; nor
give occasion to the party to say, his counsel or
proofs were not heard.

Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and ministers.
The place of justice is an hallowed place ; and there-
fore not o